GIFT  OF 

Mrs.   S.  Einarsson 


Advent  ures-of.  I 


1  heTAerry-Friar-carriefh 
Robia-acro/Vfhe  Water  :• 


%??VV'V 


THE 

MERRY  ADVENTURES 

of 

ROBIN  HOOD 

of  Great  Renown,  in  Nottinghamshire  . 
WRITTEN  and  ILLUSTRATED 

By  HOWARD  PYLE. 


§ 


\ 
W 


MDCCCLXXXIU. 


NEW  YORK-. 

Printed  by  CHARLES  SCR  IBNER'S  SONS 
A^.743^74 5 Broadway,  and  sold  by  same 


Copyright,  1883, 
By  CHARLES  SCKIBNER'S  SONS. 


From  the  Author  to  the  Reader. 


rO  U  who  so  plod  amid  serious  things  that  you  feel  it  shame  to  give 
yourself  tip  even  for  a  few  short  moments  to  mirth  and  joyous- 
ness  in  the  land  of  Fancy ;  you  who  think  that  life  hath  nought 
to  do  with  innocent  laughter  that  can  harm  no  one ;  these  pages  are  not 
for  you.  Clap  to  the  leaves  and  go  no  farther  than  this ',  for  I  tell  you 
plainly  that  if  you  go  farther  you  will  be  scandalized  by  seeing  good, 
sober  folks  of  real  history  so  frisk  and  caper  in  gay  colors  and  motley, 
that  you  would  not  know  them  but  for  the  names  tagged  to  them. 
Here  is  a  stout,  lusty  fellow  with  a  quick  temper,  yet  none  so  ill  for  all 
that,  who  goes  by  the  name  of  Henry  II.  Here  is  a  fair,  gentle  lady 
before  whom  all  the  others  bow  and  call  her  Queen  Eleanor.  Here  is 
a  fat  rogue  of  a  fellow,  dressed  up  in  rich  robes  of  a  clerical  kind,  that 
all  the  good  folk  call  my  Lord  Bishop  of  Hereford.  Here  is  a  certain 
fellow  with  a  sour  temper  and  a  grim  look  —  the  worshipful,  the 
Sheriff  of  Nottingham.  And  here,  above  all,  is  a  great,  tall,  merry 
fellow  that  roams  the  greenwood  and  joins  in  homely  sports,  and  sits 
beside  the  Sheriff  at  merry  feast,  which  same  beareth  the  name  of  the 
proudest  of  the  Plantagenets  —  Richard  of  the  Lions  Heart.  Beside 
these  ihere  are  a  whole  host  of  knights,  priests,  nobles,  burghers,  yeo 
men,  pages,  ladies,  lasses,  landlords,  beggars,  pedlers,  and  what  not,  all 
living  the  merriest  of  merry  lives,  and  all  bound  by  nothing  but  a  few 
odd  strands  of  certain  old  ballads  (snipped  and  clipped  and  tied  together 
again  in  a  score  of  knots)  which  draw  these  jocund  fellows  here  and 
there,  singing  as  they  go. 


viii  PREFACE. 

Here  you  will  find  a  hundred  dull,  sober,  jogging  places,  all  tricked 
out  with  jlowers  and  what  not,  till  no  one  would  know  them  in  their 
fanciful  dress.  And  here  is  a  country  bearing  a  well-known  name, 
wherein  no  chill  mists  press  upon  our  spirits,  and  no  rain  falls  but 
what  rolls  off  our  backs  like  April  showers  off  the  backs  of  sleek 
drakes ;  where  flowers  bloom  forever  and  birds  are  always  singing ; 
where  every  fellow  hath  a  merry  catch  as  he  travels  the  roads,  and  ale 
and  beer  and  wine  (such  as  muddle  no  wits)  flow  like  water  in  a  brook. 

This  country  is  not  Fairy-land.  What  is  it?  ^Tis  the  land  of 
Fancy,  and  is  of  that  pleasant  kind  that,  when  you  tire  of  it,  —  whisk  ! 
— you  clap  the  leaves  of  this  book  together  and  'tis  gone,  and  you  are 
ready  for  every-day  life,  with  no  harm  done. 

And  now  I  lift  the  curtain  that  hangs  between  here  and  No-man  s- 
land.  Will  you  come  with  me,  sweet  Reader?  I  thank  you.  Give 
me  your  hand. 


PROLOGUE. 

Robin  Hood  sets  forth  to  the  shooting-match  at  Nottingham  Town  — 
Meets  the  Kings  foresters  feasting  in  the  forest —  The  foresters  mock 
him  —  He  slays  a  deer  upon  a  wager  —  The  foresters  drive  him  away 
—  He  slays  one  of  them  —  He  seeks  refuge  in  the  forest,  where  many 
others  join  with  him  —  Robin  Hood  sets  forth  to  seek  adventure  — 
Meets  a  stranger  at  a  bridge  —  They  fight  upon  tJte  bridge  —  Robin 
Hood  is  overthrown  —  He  calls  his  merry  men,  who  overcome  the  stran 
ger  —  Robin  Hood  shoots  a  match  with  the  stranger,  whom  he  van 
quishes —  The  stranger  joins  the  band —  The  stranger  is  christened  in 
the  forest  and  thenceforth  called  Little  John  .  .  i 


PART  FIRST. 

Chapter  I. 

The  Sheriff  of  Nottingham  sends  a  messenger  to  Lincoln  —  The  mes 
senger  meets  a  Tinker —  The  Tinker  sets  forth  to  seek  Robin  Hood  — 
Meets  Robin  Hood,  but  does  not  know  him  —  Robin  makes  the  Tin 
ker  drunk  at  the  Blue  Boar  Inn  —  Robin  steals  his  warrant — The 
Tinker  meets  Robin  in  the  forest —  They  fight —  The  Tinker  joins  the 
band  ...........  13 

Chapter  II. 

The  Sheriff  of  Nottingham  goes  to  London  to  see  King  Henry —  The 
King  chides  him  —  The  Sheriff  returns  to  Nottingham  Town  —  He 
proclaims  a  grand  shooting-match  —  Robin  and  his  band  go  to  the  shoot 
ing-match  in  disguise —  The  fine  sight  at  Nottingham  —  The  tattered 


TABLE    OF  CONTENTS. 


stranger  in  scarlet  wins  the  golden  arrow  —  Robin  Hood  sends  a  mes 
sage  of  victory  to  tlie  Sheriff         .         .          .         .         .         .         -25 


Chapter  III. 

Robin  and  his  Band  lie  hidden  in  the  forest  —  He  sends  Will  Stutely 
to  seek  news  of  the  Sheriff's  doings  —  Will  Stutely  is  discovered  and 
captured — News  is  brought  to  Robin  Hood — Robin  and  his  men  set 
forth  to  rescue  Will  Stutely.  An  aged  Palmer  gives  young  David  of 
Doncaster  news  of  Stutely — Little  John  cuts  Will  Stutely  s  bonds  — 
Robin  Hood  and  his  Band  overcome  the  Sheriff's  men  and  bring  Will 
Stutely  off  with  ttiem  .  •  .  .  .  ."  .34 


PART  SECOND. 

Chapter  I. 

Robin  Hood  meets  a  jolly  young  Butcher — He  buys  the  Butchers 
meat  —  Robin  sells  his  meat  merrily  in  Nottingham  Town  —  The 
Butchers  Guild  invite  Robin  to  their  great  dinner —  The  Sheriff  of 
Nottingham  is  pleased  with  Robin  —  He  barters  with  Robin  for  his 
hornel  beasts  —  The  Sheriff  accompanies  Robin  to  the  forest  —  Robin 
Hood  feasts  the  Sheriff  in  Sherwood  Forest  —  The  Sheriff  pays  dearly 
for  his  meal.  ..........  47 


Chapter  II. 

Little  John  goes  to  the  Fair  at  Nottingham  Town  —  He  treats  all 
the  people  to  ale —  He  dances  with  the  maidens  —  Little  John  fights 
with  and  overcomes  Eric  o  Lincoln  —  He  wins  the  prize  with  the  long 
bow  —  He  enters  the  Sheriff  ^s  service  .  .  .  .  .  57 


TABLE   OF  CONTENTS.  xi 


Chapter  III. 

Little  John  tires  of  the  Sheriffs  service —  The  Sheriff's  Steward 
refuses  Little  John  his  breakfast  —  Little  John  smites  the  Steward — 
The  Steward  calls  upon  the  Cook  to  help  him —  The  Cook  and  Little 
John  have  a  merry  feast  together —  The  Cook  and  Little  John  have  a 
mighty  battle  —  Little  John  persuades  the  Cook  to  join  the  Band — 
The  Cook  and  Little  John  steal  the  Sheriff^  s  silver  plate — Little  John 
returns  to  Robin  Hood — Robin  Hood  chides  Little  John  for  stealing 
the  plate  —  Little  John  brings  the  Sheriff  to  Sherwood — Robin  Hood 
gives  the  Sheriff  his  plate  again,  and  leads  him  out  of  the  forest  65 


PART  THIRD. 

Chapter  I. 

Robin  Hood  sends  Little  John  on  a  mission  to  Ancaster  —  Little 
John  tarries  by  the  way  at  the  Blue  Boar  Inn  —  Little  John  sets  forth 
once  more  upon  his  mission — He  meets  Arthur  a  Bland — Robin 
Hood,  seeking  Little  John  to  chide  him,  hears  the  combat  —  He  looks  on 
unperceived — Arthiira  Bland  overcomes  Little  John  —  Robin  Hood 
discovers  himself  and  mocks  at  Little  John  —  Robin  Hood,  Little  John, 
and  Arthur  a  Bland  set  forth  once  more  to  Ancaster  .  .  79 


Chapter  II. 

The  three  yeomen  rest  by  the  wayside  —  Robin  Hood  stops  a  stranger 
in  scarlet — Robin  Hood  fights  the  stranger — He  is  overcome  —  Little 


TABLE   OF  CONTENTS. 


John  and  Arthur  a  Bland  interfere  —  Robin  Hood  finds  the  stranger 
to  be  his  nephew  —  Will  Scarlet  tells  his  story  —  Little  John  galls 
Robin  Hood  .  .  •  .....  .  .  .  88 


Chapter    III. 

A  merry  feast  by  the  roadside —  The  four  yeomen  stop  the  Miller  — 
The  Miller  plays  a  cunning  trick  upon  them  —  He  beats  all  four  of 
them  —  Midge,  the  Millers  son^  joins  the  band —  TJiey  all  return  to 
the  forest  .  ....  .  •  98 


PART   FOURTH. 

Chapter    I. 

Robin  Hood  sends  Will  Stutely  and  six  of  the  band  to  seek  some  one 
to  dine  with  him  in  the  forest —  They  find  only  a  sorrowful  minstrel — 
Allan  a  Dale  tells  his  story  —  Robin  Hood  swears  by  this  and  by  that 
to  aid  him^  and  bring  him  to  his  own  true  love  —  Will  Scarlet  tells 
Robin  Hood  of  the  curtal  Friar — Allan  a  Dale  sings  before  Robin 
and  the  band —  Allan  a  Dale  joins  the  band  .  .  .  .  115 


Chapter   II. 

Robin  Hood  and  certain  others  set  forth  to  seek  the  Friar  of  Foun 
tain  dale  —  Robin  sees  a  stranger  feasting  merrily  beneath  a  bank — 
Robin  joins  in  the  strangers  song —  The  stout  Brother  carries  Robin 
across  the  water — Robin  carries  the  stout  Brother  back  again  —  Robin 


TABLE   OF  CONTENTS. 


gets  a  ducking  —  Robin  and  the  curtal  Friar  fight  a  mighty  battle  — 
77/6'  Friar  gives  Robin  Hood  leave  to  blow  upon  his  bugle  horn  — 
Robin  Hood  gives  the  Friar  leave  to  blow  upon  his  whistle  —  Will 
Scarlet  meets  four  old  friends  —  Tlie  curtal  Friar  goes  back  to  Sher 
wood  with  the  yeomen  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  128 


Chapter  III. 

Robin  puts  on  a  strange  garb  —  Robin  and  a  score  of  his  band, 
together  with  Friar  Tuck  and  Allan  a  Dale,  go  to  the  little  church  in 
Rother  Dale  —  Robin  will  not  harp  at  the  Bishop  of  Hereford's  bid 
ding —  Robin  stays  the  marriage  —  Robin  gives  Ellens  father  a  goodly 
marriage  portion  —  The  Bishop  giveth  the  bride  a  wedding-gift  —  Friar 
Tuck  joins  the  band 143 


PART  FIFTH. 

Chapter  I. 

Robin  Hood  and  Little  John  set  forth  each  to  seek  a  guest  to  dine 
with  them  —  Robin  stops  a  sorrowful  Knight —  He  brings  the  Knight 
into  the  forest  — The  Knight  tells  his  story  — Robin  finds  the  Bishop 
of  Hereford  in  the  forest  —  Robin  shows  his  skill  as  an  archer — A 
forest  feast  —  The  Bishop  finds  money  to  pay  the  Knighfs  dues  — 
The  band  give  fair  presents  to  the  Knight  —  Little  John  goes  with 
the  Knight  from  the  forest—  The  Bishop  of  Hereford  abides  three 
days  with  Robin  Hood 


xiv  TABLE   OF  CONTENTS. 


Chapter  II. 

Sir  Richard  of  the  Lea  pays  his  debts  to  the  Prior  of  Emmet  — 
Sir  Richard  saves  the  life  of  a  young  yeoman  —  Sir  Richard  comes 
back  to  Sherwood  to  pay  his  dues  —  Sir  Richard  brings  a  fair  present 
to  Robin  Hood  from  himself  and  his  good  Lady  .  .  .  171 


PART  SIXTH. 

Chapter  I. 

Robin  Hood  and  Little  John  set  forth  from  the  forest  in  search  of 
adventure  —  Little  John  as  a  barefoot  friar  meets  three  fair  lasses  — 
Little  John  shows  his  wit  and  carries  three  baskets  of  eggs  at  once  — 
Little  John  meets  three  merry  wags —  Little  John  travels  with  two 
holy  friars  —  Little  John  and  the  friars  pray  to  some  purpose  187 


Chapter  II. 

Robin  Hood  meets  a  beggar  on  a  stile  —  Robin  has  both  a  feast  and 
a  fight  —  Robin  Hood  comes  upon  four  stout  beggars  —  Robin  Hood 
overcomes  the  beggars  and  gets  richly  paid  for  his  pains  —  Robin  meets 
a  Corn  Engrosser  near  the  cross  at  Ollerton  —  The  Corn  Engrosser 
tells  a  misplaced  secret  to  Robin  Hood  .....  200 


TABLE    OF  CONTENTS.  xv 


PART  SEVENTH. 

Chapter  I. 

The  Queen  sends  for  Robin  Hood  to  come  to  London  —  Robin  Hood 
sets  forth  with  three  of  his  merry  men  —  Allan  a  Dale  sings  before 
the  Queen  —  The  Queen  lays  a  wager  with  the  King  at  the  famous 
archery  bout  at  Finsbury  Fields  —  The  King  gives  a  pledge  —  Robin 
Hood  and  Little  John  win  their  prizes,  whilst  Will  Scarlet  loses  his  — 
The  Queen  sends  Robin  Hood  a  warning  .  .  .  .  .  219 


Chapter  II. 

The  Bishop  of  Hereford  stirs  iip  the  Kings  wrath  against  Robin 
Hood —  Will  Scarlet,  Little  John,  and  Allan  a  Dale  get  back  to  Sher 
wood —  Robin  has  a  narrow  miss  of  losing  his  life  —  He  escapes  from 
the  Kings  men  —  He  changes  clothes  with  a  cobbler  —  Robin  Hood  has 
a  strange  bedfellow  —  He  changes  clothes  with  a  friar  —  Sir  Richard 
of  the  Lea  brings  Robin  Hood  to  London  —  Robin  Hood  throws  himself 
on  the  Queens  mercy  —  He  gets  safely  back  to  Sherwood  Forest  235 


PART  EIGHTH. 

Chapter  I. 

Robin  Hood  meets  with  a  strange  fellow  in  Sherwood —  Guy  of 
Gisbourne  tells  Robin  Hood  his  story  —  Robin  outshoots  Guy  of  Gis- 


xvi  TABLE   OF  CONTENTS. 

bourne  —  Robin  Hood  slays  Guy  of  Gisbourne  — Robin  Hood  puts  on 
Guy  of  Gisbourne  s  clothes  —  The  Widow  tells  Little  John  her  story  — 
Little  John  sets  the  Widow  s  three  sons  free —  The  Sheriff  of  Notting 
ham  takes  Little  John  —  Robin  Hood  rescues  Little  John  —  The  Sheriff 
carries  something  away  with  him  that  he  did  not  want  .  .  255 


Chapter  II. 

King  Richard  of  the  Lions  Heart  comes  to  Nottingham  —  Sir 
Henry  of  the  Lea  tells  a  merry  tale  —  The  King  and  six  others  go  into 
the  forest  disguised  as  friars  —  Robin  Hood  stops  the  King  in  the 
forest  —  Robin  Hood  misses  the  mark  —  Robin  Hood  gets  more  than 
he  bargained  for  —  Sir  Richard  of  the  Lea  comes  to  give  Robin  Hood 
warning  of  danger —  The  King  pardons  Sir  Richard  and  Robin  Hood 
and  all  the  yeomen  —  Robin  Hood  leaves  Sherwood — He  becomes  Earl 
of  Huntingdon  .........  270 


Epilogue. 

Robin  Hood  returns  to  Sherwood  Forest — Sir  William  Dale  is  sent 
against  him  —  The  Kings  and  Robin  Hood's  men  have  a  mighty  battle 
in  the  woodlands  —  The  Sheriff  of  Nottingham  is  slain  —  Robin 
Hood  falls  sick,  and  goes  to  his  cousin,  the  Prioress  of  Kirklees,  to  be 
bled  —  His  cousin  betrays  him  —  Little  John  comes  to  Robin  Hood 
through  bolts  and  bars  —  Robin  Hood  shoots  his  last  shaft  —  Robin 
Hoods  epitaph  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  288 


ILLV5TRATIONS 


Ornament  for  Fly-Leaf. 

The  merry  Friar  carrieth  Robin  across  the  Water.  —  Frontispiece. 

Ornamented  Title. 

PAGE 

Head-Piece  —  Preface  •         »        »        »        .  vii 

Tail-Piece  —  Preface          ........ 


Head-Piece  —  Table  of  Contents 
Head-Piece  —  List  of  Illustrations 
Tail-Piece — List  of  Illustrations 


vin 


IX 


xvn 


XX 


Robin  Hood  meeteth  the  tall  Stranger  on  the  Bridge    .         .     xxii 
Head-Piece  —  Prologue      ........          i 

Young  Robin  goes  to  the  Shooting-Match. 


Tail-Piece  —  Prologue        .         „ 


10 


xviii  LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

Robin  and  the  Tinker  at  the  Blue  Boar  Inn  .         .         .         .12 

Head-Piece  —  Part  /. .         •       13 

The  Sheriff  of  Nottingham  sends  a  Messenger  to  Lincoln. 

The  Sheriff  of  Nottingham  cometh  before  the  King  at  London       24 

The  aged   Palmer  gives   young    David  of   Doncaster  news  of 
Will  Stutely  .        .        .        ;        .        .' >      .         .        .        .39 

Tail-Piece  —  Part  /.    .         .        -.         ,         .        .        .         .         «       44 

Robin  turns  Butcher  and  sells  his  meat  in  Nottingham         .       46 
Head-piece  —  Part  II.        .        .         .         .         .         ,         .         •       47 

Robin  buys  the  Butcher's  meat. 

Little  John  overcomes  Eric  o'  Lincoln    .....      62 
The  mighty  Fight  betwixt  Little  John  and  the  Cook    .         .       72 

The  stout  Bout  between   Little  John  and  Arthur  a  Bland     .       78 
Head-Piece  —  Part  III. 79 

Little  John  knoiveth  not  which  Road  to  take. 

Merry  Robin  stops  a  Stranger  in  Scarlet        .        .        .        .91 
The  four  Yeomen  have  merry  sport  with  a  stout  Miller         .     108 


TaiLPiece  —  Part  II 7. 


112 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS.  xix 

Allan  a  Dale  lieth  beside  the  Fountain  .         .         .         .         .114 
Head-Piece  —  Part  IV. .         .     115 

Allan  a  Dale  tells  his  Story. 

The  merry  Friar  sings  a  goodly  Song 137 

Robin  Hood  steps  betwixt  Sir  Stephen  and  his  Bride    .         .     149 

Tail-Piece  —  Part  IV.        .         . 154 

Merry  Robin  stops  a  sorrowful   Knight     .         .         .         .         .156 
Head-Piece  —  Part  V. 157 

The  young  Knight  of  the  Lea  overcomes  the  Knight  of  Lancaster, 

Sir  Richard  pleadeth  before  the  Prior  of  Emmet     .         .  175 

Tail-Piece  —  Part  V.  .         . 1 84 

Little  John  in  the  guise  of  a  Friar  stops  three  Lasses   .         .186 
Head-Piece  Part  VL !§7 

Little  John  journeys  in  Holy  Company. 

Merry  Robin  clad  as  a  Beggar  stops  the  Corn  Engrosser  by 

the  Cross  nigh  Ollerton 211 

Tail-Piece  —  Part  VI.         .         .  216 

Allan  a  Dale  singeth  before  our  good  Queen  Eleanor    .         .218 
Head-Piece  —  Part  VII.     .         .         .         .         .         .         .         .219 

Young  Richard  Partington.cometh  to  seek  merry  Robin  Hood. 


xx  LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

Stout  Robin  hath  a  narrow  Escape  .                  .  .242 

Tail-Piece  —  Part  VII.       .         .         .         .      '  •         •  .         .     252 

Robin  Hood  slayeth  Guy  of  Gisbourne     .  .254 

Head-Piece  —  Part  VI II.   .         .                          .  .255 

Robin  and  Little  John  go  their  ways  in  search  of  Adventure. 

Merry  Robin  hath  the  worst  of  a  Bargain  .     280 

Tail-Piece  — Part  VIII.    .        .         .         .         .         .  .         .285 

Robin  shooteth  his  last  Shaft    .  .288 

Head-Piece  —  Epilogue        .         .                         ..-  -       •  *  '.         «     289 

So  y*  Great  Reaper  reapeth  among  the  Flowers. 

Tail-Piece                                                                   -         .  .        .     296 


Robin  Hood-meeteth-  tne-ta 
Stranger-on-the-  Bridj 


PROLOGUE 

Giving  an  account  of  Robin  Hood  and  his  adventure  with  the  Kings 
foresters.  Also  telling  how  his  Band  gathered  around  him  ;  and  of 
the  merry  adventure  that  gained  him  his  good  right-hand  man,  the 
famous  Little  John. 

N  merry  England  in  the  time  of  old,  when  good  King 
Henry  the  Second  ruled  the  land,  there  lived  within 
the  green  glades  of  Sherwood  Forest,  near  Nottingham 
Town,  a  famous  outlaw  whose  name  was  Robin  Hood. 
No  archer  ever  lived  that  could  speed  a  gray  goose  shaft 
with  such  skill  and  cunning  as  his,  nor  were  there  ever 
such  yeomen  as  the  sevenscore  merry  men  that  roamed 
with  him  through  the  greenwood  shades.  Right  mer 
rily  they  dwelt  within  the  depths  of  Sherwood  Forest,  suffering  neither  care 
nor  want,  but  passing  the  time  in  merry  games  of  archery  or  bouts  of  cudgel 
play,  living  upon  the  King's  venison,  washed  down  with  draughts  of  ale  of  Octo 
ber  brewing. 

Not  only  Robin  himself  but  all  the  band  were  outlaws  and  dwelt  apart  from 
other  men,  yet  they  were  beloved  by  the  country  people  round  about,  for  no- 
one  ever  came  to  jolly  Robin  for  help  in  time  of  need  and  went  away  again 
with  an  empty  fist. 

And  now  I  will  tell  how  it  first  came  about  that  Robin  Hood  fell  afoul  of  the 
law. 


2  PROLOGUE. 

When  Robin  was  a  youth  of  eighteen,  stout  of  sinew  and  bold  of  heart,  the 
The  Sheriff  pro-  Sheriff  of  Nottingham  proclaimed  a  shooting-match  and  offered  a 
daimetha  shoot-  prize  of  a  butt  of  ale  to  whomsoever  should  shoot  the  best  shaft 

Robin  Hood  g+  in  Nottinghamshire.  "Now,"  quoth  Robin,  "will  I  go  too,  for 
eth  with  his  bow,  £ain  WQuld  j  draw  a  string  for  the  bright  eyes  Of  my  lasg>  and  a 

butt  of  good  October  brewing."  So  up  he  got  and  took  his  good  stout  yew 
bow  and  a  score  or  more  of  broad  clothyard  arrows,  and  started  off  from  Locks- 
ley  Town  through  Sherwood  Forest  to  Nottingham. 

It  was  at  the  dawn  of  day  in  the  merry  May-time,  when  hedgerows  are 
green  and  flowers  bedeck  the  meadows ;  daisies  pied  and  yellow  cuckoo  buds 
and  fair  primroses  all  along  the  briery  hedges  ;  when  apple  buds  blossom  and 
sweet  birds  sing,  the  lark  at  dawn  of  day,  the  throstle  cock  and  cuckoo  ;  when 
lads  and  lasses  look  upon  each  other  with  sweet  thoughts  ;  when  busy  house 
wives  spread  their  linen  to  bleach  upon  the  bright  green  grass.  Sweet  was  the 
greenwood  as  he  walked  along  its  paths,  and  bright  the  green  and  rustling  leaves, 
amid  which  the  little  birds  sang  with  might  and  main  :  and  blithely  Robin 
whistled  as  he  trudged  along,  thinking  of  Maid  Marian  and  her  bright  eyes,  for 
at  such  times  a  youth's  thoughts  are  wont  to  turn  pleasantly  upon  the  lass  that 
he  loves  the  best. 

As  thus  he  walked  along  with  a  brisk  step  and  a  merry  whistle,  he  came 
He  meeteth  the  suddenly  upon  some  foresters  seated  beneath  a  great  oak  tree. 
Fifteen  there  were  in  all,  making  themselves  merry  with  feast- 
ing  and  drinking  as  they  sat  around  a  huge  pasty,  to  which  each 
man  helped  himself,  thrusting  his  hands  into  the  pie,  and  washing  down  that 
which  they  ate  with  great  horns  of  ale  which  they  drew  all  foaming  from  a  bar 
rel  that  stood  nigh.  Each  man  was  clad  in  Lincoln  green,  and  a  fine  show 
they  made,  seated  upon  the  sward  beneath  that  fair,  spreading  tree.  Then 
one  of  them,  with  his  mouth  full,  called  out  to  Robin,  — 

"  Hulloa,  where  goest  thou,  little  lad,  with  thy  one  penny  bow  and  thy  far 
thing  shafts  ? " 

Then  Robin  grew  angry,  for  no  stripling  likes  to  be  taunted  with  his  green 
years. 

"  Now,"  quoth  he,  "  my  bow  and  eke  mine  arrows  are  as  good  as  thine ;  and 
moreover,  I  go  to  the  shooting-match  at  Nottingham  Town,  which  same  has 
been  proclaimed  by  our  good  Sheriff  of  Nottinghamshire  ;  there  I  will  shoot 
with  other  stout  yeomen,  for  a  prize  has  been  offered  of  a  fine  butt  of  ale." 

Then  one  who  held  a  horn  of  ale  in  his  hand,  said,  "  Ho  !  listen  to  the  lad  ! 
Why,  boy,  thy  mother's  milk  is  yet  scarce  dry  upon  thy  lips,  and  yet  thou  prat- 
est  of  standing  up  with  good  stout  men  at  Nottingham  butts,  thou  who  art 
scarce  able  to  draw  one  string  of  a  two  stone  bow." 


PROLOGUE.  3 

"I'll  hold  the  best  of  you  twenty  marks,"  quoth  bold  Robin,  "  that  I  hit  the 
clout  at  threescore  rods,  by  the  good  help  of  Our  Lady  fair." 

At  this  all  laughed  aloud,  and  one  said,  "Well  boasted,  thou  fair  infant,  well 
boasted!  and  well  thou  knowest  that  no  target  is  nigh  to  make  good  thy 
wager." 

And  another  cried,  "  He  will  be  taking  ale  with  his  milk  next." 

At  this  Robin  grew  right  mad.  "  Hark  ye,"  said  he  ;  "yonder,  at  the  glade's 
end,  I  see  a  herd  of  deer,  even  more  than  threescore  rods  distant.  I  '11  hold 
you  twenty  marks  that,  by  leave  of  Our  Lady,  I  cause  the  best  hart  among 
them  to  die." 

"Now  done  !  "  cried  he  who  had  spoken  first.  "And  here  are  twenty  marks. 
I  wager  that  thou  causest  no  beast  to  die,  with  or  without  the  aid  of  Our 
Lady." 

Then  Robin  took  his  good  yew  bow  in  his  hand,  and  placing  the  tip  at  his 
instep,  he  strung  it  right  deftly;  then  he  nocked  a  broad  clothyard  Robin  kilieih  a 
arrow,  and,  raising  the  bow,  drew  the  gray  goose-feather  to  his  hart  of  the  herd. 
ear  ;  the  next  moment  the  bow-string  rang  and  the  arrow  sped  down  the  glade 
as  a  sparrowhawk  skims  in  a  northern  wind.  High  leaped  the  noblest  hart  of 
all  the  herd,  only  to  fall  dead,  reddening  the  green  path  with  his  heart's  blood. 

"Ha!"  cried  Robin,  "howlikest  thou  that  shot,  good  fellow?  I  wot  the 
wager  were  mine,  an  it  were  three  hundred  pounds." 

Then  all  the  foresters  were  filled  with  rage,  and  he  who  had  spoken  the  first 
and  had  lost  the  wager  was  more  angry  than  all. 

"  Nay,"  cried  he,  "  the  wager  is  none  of  thine,  and  get  thee  gone,  straight 
way,  or,  by  all  the  saints  of  heaven,  I  '11  baste  thy  sides  until  thou  wilt  ne'er 
be  able  to  walk  again."  * 

"Knowest  thou  not,"  said  another,  "that  thou  hast  killed  the  King's  deer, 
and,  by  the  laws  of  our  gracious  lord  and  sovereign,  King  Harry,  thine  ears 
should  be  shaven  close  to  thy  head  ? " 

"  Catch  him  !  "  cried  a  third. 

"  Nay,"  said  a  fourth,  "  let  him  e'en  go  because  of  his  tender  years." 

Never  a  word  said  Robin  Hood,  but  he  looked  at  the  foresters  with  a  grim 
face  ;  then,  turning  on  his  heel,  strode  away  from  them  down  the  forest  glade. 
But  his  heart  was  bitterly  angry,  for  his  blood  was  hot  and  youthful  and  prone 
to  boil. 

Now,  well  would  it  have  been  for  him  who  had  first  spoken  had  he  left  Robin 
Hood  alone  ;  but  his  anger  was  hot,  both  because  the  youth  had  gotten  the 
better  of  him  and  because  of  the  deep  draughts  of  ale  that  he  had  been  quaff 
ing.  So,  of  a  sudden,  without  any  warning,  he  sprang  to  his  feet,  and  seized 
upon  his  bow  and  fitted  it  to  a  shaft.  "  Ay, "  cried  he,  "  and  I'll  hurry  thee 
anon  ; "  and  he  sent  the  arrow  whistling  after  Robin. 


4  PROLOGUE. 

It  was  well  for  Robin  Hood  that  that  same  forester's  head  was  spinning  with 
A  forester  shoot-  a^e»  or  else  ne  would  never  have  taken  another  step ;  as  it  was, 
eth  at  Robin  ^e  arrow  whistled  within  three  inches  of  his  head.  Then  he 

Hood,  ana  is  by 

Robin  slain  turned  around  and  quickly  drew  his  own  bow,  and  sent  an  arrow 
back  in  return. 

"  Ye  said  I  was  no  archer,"  cried  he  aloud,  "  but  say  so  now  again  !  " 

The  shaft  flew  straight ;  the  archer  fell  forward  with  a  cry,  and  lay  on  his 
face  upon  the  ground,  his  arrows  rattling  about  him  from  out  of  his  quiver,  the 
gray  goose  shaft  wet  with  his  heart's  blood.  Then,  before  the  others  could 
gather  their  wits  about  them,  Robin  Hood  was  gone  into  the  depths  of  the 
greenwood.  Some  started  after  him,  but  not  with  much  heart,  for  each  feared 
to  suffer  the  death  of  his  fellow  ;  so  presently  they  all  came  and  lifted  the  dead 
man  up  and  bore  him  away  to  Nottingham  Town. 

Meanwhile  Robin  Hood  ran  through  the  greenwood.  Gone  was  all  the  joy 
and  brightness  from  everything,  for  his  heart  was  sick  within  him,  and  it  was 
borne  in  upon  his  soul  that  he  had  slain  a  man. 

"Alas  !  "  cried  he,  "  thou  hast  found  me  an  archer  that  will  make  thy  wife  to 
wring !  I  would  that  thou  hadst  ne'er  said  one  word  to  me,  or  that  I  had  never 
passed  thy  way,  or  e'en  that  my  right  forefinger  had  been  stricken  off  ere  that 
this  had  happened  !  In  haste  I  smote,  but  grieve  I  sore  at  leisure ! "  And 
then,  even  in  his  trouble,  he  remembered  the  old  saw  that  "  What  is  done  is 
done  ;  and  the  egg  cracked  cannot  be  cured." 

And  so  he  came  to  dwell  in  the  greenwood  that  was  to  be  his  home  for  many 

a  year  to  come,  never  again  to  see  the  happy  days  with  the  lads 

Robin  Hoold  be-     an^  lasses  of  sweet  Locksley  Town  ;  for  he  was  outlawed,  not  only 

cometh  an  out-     because  he  had  killed  a  man,  but  also  because  he  had  poached 

law. 

upon  the  King's  deer,  and  two  hundred  pounds  were  set  upon  his 
head,  as  a  reward  for  whoever  would  bring  him  to  the  court  of  the  King. 

Now  the  Sheriff  of  Nottingham  swore  that  he  himself  would  bring  tfyis  knave, 
Robin  Hood,  to  justice,  and  for  two  reasons:  first,  because  he  wanted  the  two 
hundred  pounds,  and  next,  because  the  forester  that  Robin  Hood  had  killed 
was  of  kin  to  him. 

But  Robin  Hood  lay  hidden  in  Sherwood  Forest  for  one  year,  and  in  that 
time  there  gathered  around  him  many  others  like  himself,  cast  out  from  other 
folk  for  this  cause  and  for  that.  Some  had  shot  deer  in  hungry  winter  time, 
when  they  could  get  no  other  food,  and  had  been  seen  in  the  act  by  the  fores 
ters,  but  had  escaped,  thus  saving  their  ears  ;  some  had  been  turned  out  of  their 
inheritance,  that  their  farms  might  be  added  to  the  King's  lands  in  Sherwood 
Forest ;  some  had  been  despoiled  by  a  great  baron  or  a  rich  abbot  or  a  power 
ful  esquire, — all,  for  one  cause  or  another,  had  come  to  Sherwood  to  escape 
wrong  and  oppression. 


PROLOGUE.  5 

So,  in  all  that  year,  fivescore  or  more  good  stout  yeomen  gathered  about 
Robin  Hood,  and  chose  him  to  be  their  leader  and  chief.     Then     Robin 


they  vowed  that  even  as  they  themselves  had  been  despoiled  they    finding  himself 

J.  J  .  «...  outlawed,   doth 

would  despoil  their  oppressors,  whether  baron,  abbot,  knight,  or  gather  a  land 
squire,  and  that  from  each  they  would  take  that  which  had  been  about  him' 
wrung  from  the  poor  by  unjust  taxes,  or  land  rents,  or  in  wrongful  fines  ;  but 
to  the  poor  folk  they  would  give  a  helping  hand  in  need  and  trouble,  and  would 
return  to  them  that  which  had  been  unjustly  taken  from  them.  Beside  this, 
they  swore  never  to  harm  a  child  nor  to  wrong  a  woman,  be  she  maid,  wife,  or 
widow  ;  so  that,  after  a  while,  when  the  people  began  to  find  that  no  harm  was 
meant  to  them,  but  that  money  or  food  came  in  time  of  want  to  many  a  poor 
family,  they  came  to  praise  Robin  and  his  merry  men,  and  to  tell  many  tales  of 
him  and  of  his  doings  in  Sherwood  Forest,  for  they  felt  him  to  be  one  of  them 
selves. 

Up  rose  Robin    Hood   one   merry  morn  when   all  the  birds  were  singing 
blithely  among  the  leaves,  and  up  rose  all  his  merry  men,  each 
fellow  washing  his  head  and  hands  in  the  cold  brown  brook  that     eth  forth  to  seek 
leaped  laughing  from  stone  to  stone.     Then  said  Robin  :  "  For     adventure- 
fourteen  days  have  we  seen  no  sport,  so  now  I  will  go  abroad  to  seek  adven 
tures  forthwith.     But  tarry  ye,  my  merry  men  all,  here  in  the  greenwood  ;  only 
see  that  ye  mind  well  my  call.     Three  blasts  upon  the  bugle  horn  I  will  blow 
in  my  hour  of  need  ;  then  come  quickly,  for  I  shall  want  your  aid." 

So  saying,  he  strode  away  through  the  leafy  forest  glades  until  he  had  come 
to  the  verge  of  Sherwood.  There  he  wandered  for  a  long  time,  through  high 
way  and  byway,  through  dingly  dell  and  forest  skirts.  Now  he  met  a  fair 
buxom  lass  in  a  shady  lane,  and  each  gave  the  other  a  merry  word  and  passed 
their  way  ;  now  he  saw  a  fair  lady  upon  an  ambling  pad,  to  whom  he  doffed  his 
cap,  and  who  bowed  sedately  in  return  to  the  fair  youth  ;  now  he  saw  a  fat 
monk  on  a  pannier-laden  ass  ;  now  a  gallant  knight,  with  spear  and  shield  and 
armor  that  flashed  brightly  in  the  sunlight  ;  now  a  page  clad  in  crimson  ;  and 
now  a  stout  burgher  from  good  Nottingham  Town,  pacing  along  with  serious 
footsteps  ;  all  these  sights  he  saw,  but  adventure  found  he  none.  At  last  he 
took  a  road  by  the  forest  skirts  ;  a  bypath  that  dipped  toward  a  broad,  pebbly 
stream  spanned  by  a  narrow  bridge  made  of  a  log  of  wood.  As  he  drew  nigh 
this  bridge  he  saw  a  tall  stranger  coming  from  the  other  side.  Thereupon 
Robin  quickened  his  pace,  as  did  the  stranger  likewise  ;  each  thinking  to  cross 
first. 

"  Now  stand  thou  back,"  quoth  Robin,  "  and  let  the  better  man  cross  first." 

"  Nay,"  answered  the  stranger,  "  then  stand  back  thine  own  self,  for  the  bet 
ter  man,  I  wot,  am  I." 


6  PROLOGUE. 

"  That  will  we  presently  see,"  quoth  Robin  ;  "  and  meanwhile  stand  thou 
where  thou  art,  or  else,  by  the  bright  brow  of  Saint  ^Elfrida,  I  will  show  thee 
right  good  Nottingham  play  with  a  clothyard  shaft  betwixt  thy  ribs." 

"  Now,"  quoth  the  stranger,  "  I  will  tan  thy  hide  till  it  be  as  many  colors  as  a 
beggar's  cloak,  if  thou  darest  so  much  as  touch  a  string  of  that  same  bow  that 
thou  holdest  in  thy  hands." 

"  Thou  pratest  like  an  ass,"  said  Robin,  "  for  I  could  send  this  shaft  clean 
through  thy  proud  heart  before  a  curtal  friar  could  say  grace  over  a  roast  goose 
at  Michaelmastide." 

"  And  thou  pratest  like  a  coward,"  answered  the  stranger,  "  for  thou  stand- 
est  there  with  a  good  yew  bow  to  shoot  at  my  heart,  while  I  have  nought  in  my 
hand  but  a  plain  blackthorn  staff  wherewith  to  meet  thee." 

"  Now,"  quoth  Robin,  "  by  the  faith  of  my  heart,  never  have  I  had  a  coward's 
name  in  all  my  life  before.  I  will  lay  by  my  trusty  bow  and  eke  my  arrows, 
and  if  thou  darest  abide  my  coming,  I  will  go  and  cut  a  cudgel  to  test  thy 
manhood  withal." 

"Ay,  marry,  that  will  I  abide  thy  coming,  and  joyously,  too,"  quoth  the 
stranger  ;  whereupon  he  leaned  sturdily  upon  his  staff  to  await  Robin. 

Then  Robin  Hood  stepped  quickly  to  the  coverside  and  cut  a  good  staff  of 
ground  oak,  straight,  without  flaw,  and  six  feet  in  length,  and  came  back  trim 
ming  away  the  tender  stems  from  it,  while  the  stranger  waited  for  him,  leaning 
upon  his  staff,  and  whistling  as  he  gazed  round  about.  Robin  observed  him 
furtively  as  he  trimmed  his  staff,  measuring  him  from  top  to  toe  from  out  the 
corner  of  his  eye,  and  thought  that  he  had  never  seen  a  lustier  or  a  stouter 
man.  Tall  was  Robin,  but  taller  was  the  stranger  by  a  head  and  a  neck,  for  he 
was  seven  feet  in  height  Broad  was  Robin  across  the  shoulders,  but  broader 
was  the  stranger  by  twice  the  breadth  of  a  palm,  while  he  measured  at  least 
an  ell  around  the  waist. 

"  Nevertheless,"  said  Robin  to  himself,  "  I  will  baste  thy  hide  right  merrily, 
my  good  fellow;"  then,  aloud,  "  Lo,  here  is  my  good  staff,  lusty  and  tough. 
Now  wait  my  coming,  an  thou  darest,  and  meet  me,  an  thou  fearest  not ;  then 
we  will  fight  until  one  or  the  other  of  us  tumble  into  the  stream  by  dint  of 
blows." 

"  Marry,  that  meeteth  my  whole  heart !  "  cried  the  stranger,  twirling  his  staff 
above  his  head,  betwixt  his  fingers  and  thumb,  until  it  whistled  again. 

Never  did  the  Knights  of  Arthur's  Round  Table  meet  in  a  stouter  fight  than 
Telling  of  the  mer-  did  these  two.  In  a  moment  Robin  stepped  quickly  upon  the 
TRobiti ^loS'and  bridge  where  the  stranger  stood  ;  first  he  made  a  feint,  and  then 
ike  tall  stranger,  delivered  a  blow  at  the  stranger's  head  that,  had  it  met  its  mark, 
would  have  tumbled  him  speedily  into  the  water ;  but  the  stranger  turned  the 


PROLOGUE.  7 

blow  right  deftly,  and  in  return  gave  one  as  stout,  which  Robin  also  turned  as 
the  stranger  had  done.  So  they  stood,  each  in  his  place,  neither  moving  a 
finger's  breadth  back,  for  one  good  hour,  and  many  blows  were  given  and  re 
ceived  by  each  in  that  time,  till  here  and  there  were  sore  bones  and  bumps,  yet 
neither  thought  of  crying  "  Enough,"  or  seemed  likely  to  fall  from  off  the 
bridge.  Now  and  then  they  stopped  to  rest,  and  each  thought  that  he  never 
had  seen  in  all  his  life  before  such  a  hand  at  quarter-staff.  At  last  Robin  gave 
the  stranger  a  blow  upon  the  ribs  that  made  his  jacket  smoke  like  a  damp  straw 
thatch  in  the  sun.  So  shrewd  was  the  stroke  that  the  stranger  came  within  a 
hair's  breadth  of  falling  off  the  bridge ;  but  he  regained  himself  right  quickly, 
and,  by  a  dexterous  blow,  gave  Robin  a  crack  on  the  crown  that  caused  the 
blood  to  flow.  Then  Robin  grew  mad  with  anger,  and  smote  with  all  his  might 
at  the  other  ;  but  the  stranger  warded  the  blow,  and  once  again  -pke  stran  er 
thwacked  Robin,  and  this  time  so  fairly  that  he  fell  heels  over  overcometh.  mer- 
head  into  the  water,  as  the  queen  pin  falls  in  a  game  of  bowls. 

"  And  where  art  thou  now,  good  lad  ? "  shouted  the  stranger,  roaring  with 
laughter. 

"  Oh,  in  the  flood  and  floating  adown  with  the  tide,"  cried  Robin  ;  nor  could 
he  forbear  laughing  himself  at  his  sorry  plight.  Then,  gaining  his  feet,  he 
waded  to  the  bank,  the  little  fish  speeding  hither  and  thither,  all  frightened  at 
his  splashing. 

"  Give  me  thy  hand,"  cried  he,  when  he  had  reached  the  bank.  "  I  must 
needs  own  thou  art  a  brave  and  a  sturdy  soul,  and,  withal,  a  good  stout  stroke 
with  the  cudgels.  By  this  and  by  that,  my  head  hummeth  like  to  a  hive  of 
bees  on  a  hot  June  day." 

Then  he  clapped  his  horn  to  his  lips,  and  winded  a  blast  that  went  echoing 
sweetly  down  the  forest  paths.  "  Ay,  marry,"  quoth  he  again,  "  thou  art  a  tall 
lad,  and  eke  a  brave  one,  for  ne'er,  I  trow,  is  there  a  man  betwixt  here  and 
Canterbury  Town  could  do  the  like  to  me  that  thou  hast  done." 

"  And  thou,"  quoth  the  stranger,  laughing,  "  takest  thy  cudgelling  like  a 
brave  heart  and  a  stout  yeoman." 

But  now  the  distant  twigs  and  branches  rustled  with  the  coming  of  men,  and 
suddenly  a  score  or  two  of  good  stout  yeomen,  all  clad  in  Lincoln  green,  burst 
from  out  the  covert,  with  merry  Will  Stutely  at  their  head. 

"  Good  master,"  cried  Will,  "  how  is  this  ?  Truly  thou  art  all  wet  from  head 
to  foot,  and  that  to  the  very  skin." 

"Why,  marry,"  answered  jolly  Robin,  "yon  stout  fellow  hath  tumbled  me 
neck  and  crop  into  the  water,  and  hath  given  me  a  drubbing  beside." 

"  Then  shall  he  not  go  without  a  ducking  and  eke  a  drubbing  himself !  "  cried 
Will  Stutely.  Have  at  him,  lads  !  " 


8  PROLOGUE. 

Then  Will  and  a  score  of  yeomen  leaped  upon  the  stranger,  but  though  they 
sprang  quickly  they  found  him  ready  and  felt  him  strike  right  and  left  with  his 
stout  staff,  so  that,  though  he  went  down  with  press  of  numbers,  some  of  them 
rubbed  cracked  crowns  before  he  was  overcome. 

"  Nay,  forbear  ! "  cried  Robin,  laughing  until  his  sore  sides  ached  again  ;  "he 
is  a  right  good  man  and  true,  and  no  harm  shall  befall  him.  Now 

Robin  asketh  the    , 

stranger  to  join  hark  ye,  good  youth,  wilt  thou  stay  with  me  and  be  one  of  my 
fus  band.  band  ?  Three  suits  of  Lincoln  green  shalt  thou  have  each  year, 

beside  forty  marks  in  fee,  and  share  with  us  whatsoever  good  shall  befall  us. 
Thou  shalt  eat  sweet  venison  and  quaff  the  stoutest  ale,  and  mine  own  good 
right-hand  man  shalt  thou  be,  for  never  did  I  see  such  a  cudgel-player  in  all  my 
life  before.  Speak  !  wilt  thou  be  one  of  my  good  merry  men  ?  " 

"  That  know  I  not,"  quoth  the  stranger,  surlily,  for  he  was  angry  at  being  so 
tumbled  about.  "  If  ye  handle  yew  bow  and  apple  shaft  no  better  than  ye  do 
oaken  cudgel,  I  wot  ye  are  not  fit  to  be  called  yeomen  in  my  country  ;  but  if 
there  be  any  man  here  that  can  shoot  a  better  shaft  than  I,  then  will  I  bethink 
me  of  joining  with  you." 

"  Now  by  my  faith,"  said  Robin,  "  thou  art  a  right  saucy  varlet,  sirrah  ;  yet 
I  will  stoop  to  thee  as  I  never  stooped  to  man  before.  Good  Stutely,  cut  thou 
a  fair  white  piece  of  bark  four  fingers  in  breadth,  and  set  it  forescore  yards  dis 
tant  on  yonder  oak.  Now,  stranger,  hit  that  fairly  with  a  gray  goose  shaft  and 
call  thyself  an  archer." 

"  Ay,  marry,  that  will  I,"  answered  he.  "  Give  me  a  good  stout  bow  and 
a  fair  broad  arrow,  and  if  I  hit  it  not  strip  me  and  beat  me  blue  with  bow 
strings." 

Then  he  chose  the  stoutest  bow  amongst  them  all,  next  to  Robin's  own,  and 
shooteth      a  straight  gray  goose  shaft,  well-feathered  and  smooth,  and  step- 
i * teatcth     P*n&  to  tne  mar^  —  while  all  the  band,  sitting  or  lying  upon  the 
him.  greensward,  watched  to  see  him  shoot  —  he  drew  the  arrow  to  his 

cheek  and  loosed  the  shaft  right  deftly,  sending  it  so  straight  down  the  path 
that  it  clove  the  mark  in  the  very  centre.  "  Aha  !  "  cried  he,  "  mend  thou  that 
if  thou  canst ;  "  while  even  the  yeomen  clapped  their  hands  at  so  fair  a  shot. 

"  That  is  a  keen  shot,  indeed,"  quoth  Robin,  "  mend  it  I  cannot,  but  mar  it  I 
may,  perhaps." 

Then  taking  up  his  own  good  stout  bow  and  nocking  an  arrow  with  care  he 
shot  with  his  very  greatest  skill.  Straight  flew  the  arrow,  and  so  true  that  it 
lit  fairly  upon  the  stranger's  shaft  and  split  it  into  splinters.  Then  all  the  yeo 
men  leaped  to  their  feet  and  shouted  for  joy  that  their  master  had  shot  so  well. 

"  Now  by  the  lusty  yew  bow  of  good  Saint  Withold,"  cried  the  stranger, 
"  that  is  a  shot  indeed,  and  never  saw  I  the  like  in  all  my  life  before !  Now  truly 


PROLOGUE.  9 

will  I  be  thy  man  henceforth  and  for  aye.  Good  Adam  Bell  l  was  a  fair  shot, 
but  never  shot  he  so  !  " 

"  Then  have  I  gained  a  right  good  man  this  day,"  quoth  jolly  Robin.  "  What 
name  goest  thou  by,  good  fellow." 

"  Men  call  me  John  Little  whence  I  came,"  answered  the  stranger. 

Then  Will  Stutely,  who  loved  a  good  jest,  spoke  up.  "  Nay,  fair  little  stran 
ger,"  said  he,  "I  like  not  thy  name  and  fain  would  I  have  it  The  stranger 

T  .  i          .,.  .  ni-i  •••  joineth  the  band 

otherwise.     Little  art  thou  indeed,  and  small  of  bone  and  smew,    and  is  christened 


therefore  shalt  thou  be  christened  Little  John,  and  I  will  be  thy 
godfather."  John. 

Then  Robin  Hood  and  all  his  band  laughed  aloud  until  the  stranger  began 
to  grow  angry. 

"  An  thou  make  a  jest  of  me,"  quoth  he  to  Will  Stutely,  "thou  wilt  have  sore 
bones  and  little  pay,  and  that  in  short  season." 

"  Nay,  good  friend,"  said  Robin  Hood,  "  bottle  thine  anger  for  the  name  fit- 
teth  thee  well.  Little  John  shall  thou  be  called  henceforth,  and  Little  John 
shall  it  be.  So  come,  my  merry  men,  and  we  will  go  and  prepare  a  christening 
feast  for  this  fair  infant." 

So  turning  their  backs  upon  the  stream,  they  plunged  into  the  forest  once 
more,  through  which  they  traced  their  steps  till  they  reached  the  spot  where 
they  dwelt  in  the  depths  of  the  woodland.  There  had  they  built  huts  of  bark 
and  branches  of  trees,  and  made  couches  of  sweet  rushes  spread  over  with  skins 
of  fallow  deer.  Here  stood  a  great  oak  tree  with  branches  spreading  broadly 
around,  beneath  which  was  a  seat  of  green  moss  where  Robin  Hood  was  wont 
to  sit  at  feast  and  at  merrymaking  with  his  stout  men  about  him.  Here  they 
found  the  rest  of  the  band,  some  of  whom  had  come  in  with  a  brace  of  fat  does. 
Then  they  all  built  great  fires  and  after  a  time  roasted  the  does  and  broached  a 
barrel  of  humming  ale.  Then  when  the  feast  was  ready  they  all  sat  down,  but 
Robin  Hood  placed  Little  John  at  his  right  hand,  for  he  was  henceforth  to  be 
the  second  in  the  band. 

Then  when  the  feast  was  done  Will  Stutely  spoke  up.  "  It  is  now  time,  I 
ween,  to  christen  our  bonny  babe,  is  it  not  so,  merry  boys  ?  "  HOW  that  Little 
And  «  Aye  !  Aye  !  "  cried  all,  laughing  till  the  woods  echoed  with 
their  mirth." 

"Then  seven  sponsors  shall  we  have,"  quoth  Will  Stutely;  and  hunting 
among  all  the  band  he  chose  the  seven  stoutest  men  of  them  all. 

"  Now  by  Saint  Dunstan,"  cried  Little  John,  springing  to  his  feet,  "  more 
than  one  of  you  shall  rue  it  an  you  lay  finger  upon  me." 

1  Adam  Bell,  Clym  o'  the  Clough,  and  William  of  Cloudesly  were  three  noted  north-country  bowmen 
whose  names  have  been  celebrated  in  many  ballads  of  the  olden  time. 


10  PROLOGUE. 

But  without  a  word  they  all  ran  upon  him  at  once,  seizing  him  by  his  legs 
and  arms  and  holding  him  tightly  in  spite  of  his  struggles,  and  they  bore  him 
forth  while  all  stood  around  to  see  the  sport  Then  one  came  forward  who  had 
been  chosen  to  play  the  priest  because  he  had  a  bald  crown,  and  in  his  hand  he 
carried  a  brimming  pot  of  ale.  "  Now  who  bringeth  this  babe  ?  "  asked  he  right 
soberly. 
•"  That  do  I,"  answered  Will  Stutely. 

"  And  what  name  callest  thou  him  ? " 

"  Little  John  call  I  him." 

"  Now  Little  John,"  quoth  the  mock  priest,  "  thou  hast  not  lived  heretofore, 
but  only  got  thee  along  through  the  world,  but  henceforth  thou  wilt  live  indeed. 
When  thou  livedst  not  thou  wast  called  John  Little,  but  now  that  thou  dost  live 
indeed,  Little  John  shalt  thou  be  called,  so  christen  I  thee."  And  at  these  last 
words  he  emptied  the  pot  of  ale  upon  Little  John's  head. 

Then  all  shouted  with  laughter  as  they  saw  the  good  brown  ale  stream  over 
Little  John's  beard  and  trickle  from  his  nose  and  chin,  while  his  eyes  blinked 
with  the  smart  of  it.  At  first  he  was  of  a  mind  to  be  angry,  but  found  he  could 
not  because  the  others  were  so  merry  ;  so  he,  too,  laughed  with  the  rest.  Then 
Robin  took  this  sweet,  pretty  babe,  clothed  him  all  anew  from  top  to  toe  in  Lin 
coln  green,  and  gave  him  a  good  stout  bow,  and  so  made  him  a  member  of  the 
merry  band. 

And  thus  it  was  that  Robin  Hood  became  outlawed  ;  thus  a  band  of  merry 
companions  gathered  about  him,  and  thus  he  gained  his  right-hand  man,  Little 
John  ;  and  so  the  prologue  ends.  And  now  I  will  tell  how  the  Sheriff  of  Not 
tingham  three  times  sought  to  take  Robin  Hood,  and  how  he  failed  each  time. 


iends-a-messinger-to-L  incoln  I 


PART   FIRST. 

Telling  how  the  Sheriff  of  Nottingham  swore  that  he  would  deal  dole  to 
Robin  Hood.  Also,  how  he  made  three  trials  thereat,  but  missed  each 
time  by  a  good  bow's  length. 

I. 

Robin  Hood  and  the  Tinker. 


OW  it  was  told  before  how  two  hundred  pounds  were  set 
upon  Robin  Hood's  head,  and  how  the  Sheriff  of  Notting 
ham  swore  that  he  himself  would  seize  Robin,  both  because 
he  would  fain  have  the  two  hundred  pounds  and  because 
the  slain  man  was  a  kinsman  of  his  own.  Now  the  Sheriff 
did  not  yet  know  what  a  force  Robin  had  about  him  in  Sher 
wood,  but  thought  that  he  might  serve  a  warrant  for  his 
arrest  as  he  could  upon  any  other  man  that  had  broken  the  laws  ;  therefore  he 
offered  fourscore  golden  angels  to  any  one  who  would  serve  this  The  Sheriff  seeks 
warrant.  But  men  of  Nottingham  Town  knew  more  of  Robin  to  serve  a  ™ar 

rani  upon  Koom 

Hood  and  his  doings  than  the  Sheriff  did,  and  many  laughed  to  Hood,   but   can 
think  of  serving  a  warrant  upon  the  bold  outlaw,  knowing  well  that  tfngham  *t" wwe- 
all  they  would  get  for  such  service  would  be  cracked  crowns  ;  so  ''• 
that  no  one  came  forward  to  take  the  matter  in  hand.    Thus  a  fortnight  passed, 
in  which  time  none  came  forward  to  do  the  Sheriff's  business.     Then  said  he : 
"A  right  good  reward  have  I  offered  to  whomsoever  would  serve  my  warrant 
upon  Robin  Hood,  and  I  marvel  that  no  one  has  come  to  undertake  the  task." 
Then  one  of  his  men  who  was  near  him  said  :  "  Good  master,  thou  wottest 


14  ROBIN  HOOD  AND   THE   TINKER. 

not  the  force  that  Robin  Hood  has  about  him  and  how  little  he  cares  for  war 
rant  of  king  or  sheriff.  Truly,  no  one  likes  to  go  on  this  service,  for  fear  of 
cracked  crowns  and  broken  bones." 

"Then  I  hold  all  Nottingham  men  to  be  cowards,"  said  the  Sheriff.  "And 
let  me  see  the  man  in  all  Nottinghamshire  that  dare  disobey  the  warrant  of  our 
sovereign  lord,  King  Harry,  for,  by  the  shrine  of  Saint  Edmund,  I  will  hang 
him  forty  cubits  high  !  But  if  no  man  in  Nottingham  dare  win  fourscore  angels, 
I  will  send  elsewhere,  for  there  should  be  men  of  mettle  somewhere  in  this 
land." 

Then  he  called  up  a  messenger  in  whom  he  placed  great  trust,  and  bade  him 
,  saddle  his  horse  and  make  ready  to  go  to  Lincoln  Town  to  see 

Tne  Sheriff  send-  J 

£th  a  messenger  whether  he  could  find  any  one  there  that  would  do  his  bidding,  and 
wn'  win  the  reward.  So  that  same  morning  the  messenger  started 
forth  upon  his  errand. 

Bright  shone  the  sun  upon  the  dusty  highway  that  led  from  Nottingham  to 
Lincoln,  stretching  away  all  white  over  hill  and  dale.  Dusty  was  the  highway 
and  dusty  the  throat  of  the  messenger,  so  that  his  heart  was  glad  when  he  saw 
before  him  the  sign  of  the  Blue  Boar  Inn,  when  somewhat  more  than  half  his 
journey  was  done.  The  inn  looked  fair  to  his  eyes,  and  the  shade  of  the  oak 
trees  that  stood  around  it  seemed  cool  and  pleasant,  so  he  alighted  from  his 
horse  to  rest  himself  for  a  time,  calling  for  a  pot  of  ale  to  refresh  his  thirsty 
throat. 

There  he  saw  a  party  of  right  jovial  fellows  seated  beneath  the  spreading  oak 
He  meeteth  ood  tnat  sna^ed  the  greensward  in  front  of  the  door.  There  was  a 
Company  at  the  tinker,  two  barefoot  friars,  and  a  party  of  six  of  the  King's  for 
esters  all  clad  in  Lincoln  green,  and  all  them  were  quaffing  hum 
ming  ale  and  singing  merry  ballads  of  the  good  old  times.  Loud  laughed  the 
foresters,  as  jests  were  bandied  about  between  the  singing,  and  louder  laughed 
the  friars,  for  they  were  lusty  men  with  beards  that  curled  like  the  wool  of  black 
rams  ;  but  loudest  of  all  laughed  the  Tinker,  and  he  sang  more  sweetly  than 
any  of  the  rest.  His  bag  and  his  hammer  hung  upon  a  twig  of  the  oak  tree,  and 
near  by  leaned  his  good  stout  cudgel,  as  thick  as  his  wrist  and  knotted  at  the 
end. 

"  Come,"  cried  one  of  the  foresters  to  the  tired  messenger,  "  come  join  us  for 
this  shot.  Ho,  landlord  !  bring  a  fresh  pot  of  ale  for  each  man." 

The  messenger  was  glad  enough  to  sit  down  along  with  the  others  who  were 
there,  for  his  limbs  were  weary  and  the  ale  was  good. 

"  Now  what  news  bearest  thou  so  fast  ? "  quoth  one,  "  and  whither  ridest 
thou  to-day  ? " 

The  messenger  was  a  chatty  soul  and  loved  a  bit  of  gossip  dearly  ;  beside 


ROBIN  HOOD  AND   THE   TINKER.  15 

the  pot  of  ale  warmed  his  heart ;  so  that,  settling  himself  in  an  easy  corner  of 
the  inn  bench,  while  the  host  leaned  upon  the  doorway  and  the  hostess  stood 
with  her  hands  beneath  her  apron,  he  unfolded  his  budget  of  news  with  great 
comfort.  He  told  all  from  the  very  first :  how  Robin  Hood  had  slain  the  fores 
ter,  and  how  he  had  hidden  in  the  greenwood  to  escape  the  law ;  how  that  he 
lived  therein,  all  against  the  law,  God  wot,  slaying  his  Majesty's  deer  and  levy 
ing  toll  on  fat  abbot,  knight,  and  esquire,  so  that  none  dare  travel  even  on 
broad  Watling  Street  or  the  Foss  Way  for  fear  of  him  ;  how  that  the  Sheriff, 
Heaven  save  his  worship,  who  paid  him,  the  messenger,  sixpence  every  Satur 
day  night,  of  good  broad  money  stamped  with  the  King's  head,  beside  ale  at 
Michaelmas  and  a  fat  goose  at  Christmas-tide,  had  a  mind  to  serve  the  king's 
warrant  upon  this  same  rogue,  though  little  would  he  mind  either  warrant  of 
king  or  sheriff,  for  he  was  far  from  being  a  law-abiding  man.  Then  he  told 
how  none  could  be  found  in  all  Nottingham  Town  to  serve  this  warrant,  for 
fear  of  cracked  pates  and  broken  bones,  and  how  that  he,  the  messenger,  was 
now  upon  his  way  to  Lincoln  Town  to  find  of  what  mettle  the  Lincoln  men 
might  be,  and  whether  there  were  any  there  that  dared  serve  this  same  warrant ; 
wherefore  was  he  now  sitting  among  the  prettiest  lads  he  had  ever  known,  and 
the  ale  was  the  best  ale  he  had  tasted  in  all  his  life. 

To  this  discourse  they  listened  with  open  mouths  and  eyes,  for  it  was  a  fair 
piece  of  gossip  to  them.  Then  when  the  messenger  had  done  the  jolly  Tinker 
broke  silence. 

"  Now  come  I,  forsooth,  from  good  Banbury  Town,"  said  he,  "  and  no  one 
nigh  Nottingham  —  nor  Sherwood  either,  an  that  be  the  mark — can  hold 
cudgel  with  my  grip.  Why  lads,  did  I  not  meet  that  mad  wag,  Simon  of  Ely, 
even  at  the  famous  Fair  at  Hertford  Town,  and  beat  him  in  the  ring  at  that 
place  before  Sir  Robert  of  Leslie  and  his  lady  ?  This  same  Robin  Hood,  of 
whom,  I  wot,  I  never  heard  before,  is  a  right  merry  blade,  but  gin  he  be  strong, 
am  not  I  stronger  ?  and  gin  he  be  sly,  am  not  I  slyer  ?  Now  by  the  bright  eyes 
of  Nan  o'  the  Mill,  and  by  mine  own  name,  and  that 's  Wat  o'  the  Crabstaff ,  and 
by  mine  own  mother's  son,  and  that's  myself,  will  I,  even  I,  Wat  o'  the  Crab- 
staff,  meet  this  same  sturdy  rogue,  and  gin  he  mind  not  the  seal  of  our  glorious 
sovereign,  King  Harry,  and  the  warrant  of  the  good  Sheriff  of  Nottingham 
shire,  I  will  so  bruise,  beat,  and  bemaul  his  pate,  that  he  shall  never  move  fin 
ger  or  toe  again !  Hear  ye  that,  bully  boys  ?  Come,  let  us  have  another 
bout." 

"  Now  art  thou  the  man  for  my  farthing,"  cried  the  messenger.  "  And  back 
thou  goest  with  me  to  Nottingham  Town." 

"  Nay,"  quoth  the  Tinker,  shaking  his  head  slowly  from  side  to  side.  "  Go  I 
with  no  man  gin  it  be  not  with  mine  own  free  will." 


1 6  ROBIN  HOOD  AND    THE    TINKER, 

"  Nay,  nay,"  said  the  messenger,  "  no  man  is  there  in  Nottinghamshire  could 
make  thee  go  against  thy  will,  thou  brave  fellow." 

"  Ay,  that  be  I  brave,"  said  the  Tinker. 

"Ay,  marry,"  said  the  messenger,  thou  art  a  brave  lad  ;  but  our  good  Sheriff 
hath  offered  fourscore  angels  of  bright  gold  to  whosoever  shall  serve  the  war 
rant  upon  Robin  Hood  ;  though  little  good  will  it  do." 

"  Then  I  will  go  with  thee,  lad.  Do  but  wait  till  I  get  my  bag,  and  hammer, 
The  Tinker  and  my  cudgel.  Ay,  let  me  but  meet  this  same  Robin  Hood, 
Messenger  to'  anc*  ^et  me  see  whether  he  will  not  mind  the  King's  warrant." 
serve  the  war-  So,  after  having  paid  their  score,  the  messenger,  with  the  Tinker 

rant  upon  Robin  ..........  .  .       .  ,._        .       . 

Hood.  striding  beside  his  nag,  started  back  to  Nottingham  again. 

One  bright  morning  soon  after  this  time,  Robin  Hood  started  off  to  Notting 
ham  Town  to  find  what  was  a-doing  there,  walking  merrily  along  the  roadside 
where  the  grass  was  sweet  with  daisies,  his  eyes  wandering  and  his  thoughts 
also.  His  bugle-horn  hung  at  his  hip  and  his  bow  and  arrows  at  his  back, 
while  in  his  hand  he  bore  a  good  stout  oaken  staff,  which  he  twirled  with  his 
fingers  as  he  strolled  along. 

As  thus  he  walked  down  a  shady  lane  he  saw  a  tinker  coming,  trolling  a 
merry  song  as  he  drew  nigh.  On  his  back  hung  his  bag  and  his  hammer,  and  in 
his  hand  he  carried  a  right  stout  crabstaff  full  six  feet  long,  and  thus  sang  he  :  — 

"  In  peascod  time,  when  hound  to  horn 

Gives  ear  till  buck  be  killed, 

And  little  lads  with  pipes  of  corn 

Sit  keeping  beasts  afield"  — 

"  Halloa,  good  friend  !  "  cried  Robin. 

"  /  went  to  gather  strawberries  "  — 

"  Halloa  !  "  cried  Robin  again. 

"  By  woods  and  groves  full  fair"  — 

"  Halloa !  art  thou  deaf,  man  ?     Good  friend,  say  I !  " 

"  And  who  art  thou  dost  so  boldly  check  a  fair  song  ? "  quoth  the  Tinker, 
stopping  in  his  singing.  "  Halloa,  thine  own  self,  whether  thou  be  good  friend 
or  no.  But  let  me  tell  thee,  thou  stout  fellow,  gin  thou  be  a  good  friend  it  were 
well  for  us  both ;  but  gin  thou  be  no  good  friend  it  were  ill  for  thee." 

"Then  let  us  be  good  friends,"  quoth  jolly  Robin,  "for  ill  would  it  be  to  be 
ill,  and  ill  like  I  thine  oaken  staff  full  well  to  make  it  but  well,  so  good  friends 
let  us  be." 

"Ay,  marry,  then  let  us  be,"  said  the  Tinker.  "  But,  good  youth,  thy  tongue 
runneth  so  nimbly  that  my  poor  and  heavy  wits  can  but  ill  follow  it,  so  talk 
more  plainly,  I  pray,  for  I  am  a  plain  man,  forsooth." 


ROBIN  HOOD  AND   THE   TINKER.  17 

"  And  whence  comest  thou,  my  lusty  blade  ?  "  quoth  Robin. 

"  I  come  from  Banbury,"  answered  the  Tinker. 

"  Alas  !  "  quoth  Robin,  "  I  hear  there  is  sad  news  this  merry  morn." 

"  Ha  !  is  it  indeed  so  ?  "  cried  the  Tinker,  eagerly.  "  Prythee  tell  it  speedily, 
for  I  am  a  tinker  by  trade,  as  thou  seest,  and  as  I  am  in  my  trade  I  am  greedy 
for  news,  even  as  a  priest  is  greedy  for  farthings." 

"  Well  then,"  quoth  Robin,  "  list  thou  and  I  will  tell,  but  bear  thyself  up 
bravely,  for  the  news  is  sad,  I  wot.  Thus  it  is  :  I  hear  that  two  tinkers  are  in 
the  stocks  for  drinking  ale  and  beer ! " 

"  Now  a  murrain  seize  thee  and  thy  news,  thou  scurvy  dog,"  quoth  the  Tin 
ker,  "  for  thou  speakest  but  ill  of  good  men.  But  sad  news  is  it  indeed,  gin 
there  be  two  stout  fellows  in  the  stocks." 

"  Nay,"  said  Robin,  "  thou  hast  missed  the  mark  and  dost  but  weep  for  the 
wrong  sow.  The  sadness  of  the  news  lieth  in  that  there  be  but  two  in  the 
stocks,  for  the  others  do  roam  the  country  at  large." 

"  Now  by  the  pewter  platter  of  Saint  Dunstan,"  cried  the  Tinker,  "  I  have  a 
good  part  of  a  mind  to  baste  thy  hide  for  thine  ill  jest.  But  gin  men  be  put  in 
the  stocks  for  drinking  ale  and  beer,  I  trow  thou  wouldst  not  lose  thy  part." 

Loud  laughed  Robin  and  cried  :  "  Now  well  taken,  Tinker,  well  taken  !  Why, 
thy  wits  are  like  beer,  and  do  froth  up  most  when  they  grow  sour  !  But  right 
art  thou,  man,  for  I  love  ale  and  beer  right  well.  Therefore  come  straightway 
with  me  hard  by  to  the  sign  of  the  Blue  Boar,  and  if  thou  drinkest  as  thou 
appearest,  —  and  I  wot  thou  wilt  not  belie  thy  looks,  —  I  will  drench  thy  throat 
with  as  good  homebrewed  as  ever  was  tapped  in  all  broad  Nottinghamshire." 

"  Now  by  my  faith,"  said  the  Tinker,  "  thou  art  a  right  good  fellow  in  spite 
of  thy  scurvy  jests.  I  love  thee,  my  sweet  chuck,  and  gin  I  go  not  with  thee 
to  that  same  Blue  Boar  thou  mayst  call  me  a  heathen  Jew." 

"  Tell  me  thy  news,  good  friend,  I  Prythee/'  quoth  Robin  as  they  trudged 
along  together,  "  for  tinkers,  I  ween,  are  all  as  full  of  news  as  an  TJie  Tinker 

eg0"  of  meat."  goethwith  Robin 

Hood  to  the  sign 

"  Now  I  love  thee  as  my  brother,  my  bully  blade,    said  the  Tin-   of  the  Blue 
ker,  "  else  I  would  not  tell  thee  my  news  ;  for  sly  am  I,  man,  and    Boar' 
I  have  in  hand  a  grave  undertaking  that  doth  call  for  all  my  wits,  for  I  come  to 
seek  a  bold  outlaw  that  men,  hereabouts,  call  Robin  Hood.    Within  my  pouch  I 
have  a  warrant,  all  fairly  written  out  on  parchment,  forsooth,  with  a  great  red- 
seal  for  to  make  it  lawful.     Could  I  but  meet  this  same  Robin  Hood  I  would, 
serve  it  upon  his  dainty  body,  and  if  he  minded  it  not  I  would  beat  him  till 
every  one  of  his  ribs  would  cry  Amen.     But  thou  livest  hereabouts,  mayhap 
thou  knowest  Robin  Hood  thyself,  good  fellow." 

"Ay,  marry,  that  do  I  somewhat,"  quoth  Robin,  "and  I  have  seen  him  this 


1 8  ROBIN  HOOD  AND    THE   TINKER. 

very  morn.  But,  Tinker,  men  say  that  he  is  but  a  sad,  sly  thief.  Thou  hadst 
better  watch  thy  warrant,  man,  or  else  he  may  steal  it  out  of  thy  very  pouch." 

"  Let  him  but  try  !  "  cried  the  Tinker.  "  Sly  may  he  be,  but  sly  am  I,  too. 
I  would  I  had  him  here  now,  man  to  man  ! "  And  he  made  his  heavy  cudgel  to 
spin  again.  "  But  what  manner  of  man  is  he,  lad  ?  " 

"  Much  like  myself,"  said  Robin,  laughing,  "  and  in  height  and  build  and  age 
nigh  the  same  ;  and  he  hath  blue  eyes,  too,  like  mine." 

"  Nay,"  quoth  the  Tinker,  "  thou  art  but  a  green  youth.  I  thought  him  to  be 
a  great  bearded  man,  Nottingham  men  feared  him  so." 

"  Truly,  he  is  not  so  old  nor  so  stout  as  thou  art,"  said  Robin.  "  But  men 
do  call  him  a  right  deft  hand  at  quarterstaff." 

"That  may  be,"  said  the  Tinker,  right  sturdily ;  "  but  I  am  more  deft  than  he, 
for  did  I  not  overcome  Simon  of  Ely  in  a  fair  bout  in  the  ring  at  Hertford 
Town  ?  But  if  thou  knowest  him,  my  jolly  blade,  wilt  thou  go  with  me  and 
bring  me  to  him  ?  Fourscore  bright  angels  hath  the  Sheriff  promised  me  if  I 
serve  the  warrant  upon  the  knave's  body,  and  ten  of  them  will  I  give  to  thee  if 
thou  showest  me  him." 

"Ay,  that  will  I,"  quoth  Robin  ;  "but  show  me  thy  warrant,  man,  until  I  see 
Robin  promiseth  whether  it  be  good  or  no." 

totf*******  "  That  wil1  l  not  do>  even  to  mine  own  brother>"  answered  the 
he  seeketh.  Tinker.  "  No  man  shall  see  my  warrant  till  I  serve  it  upon  yon 

fellow's  own  body." 

"  So  be  it,"  quoth  Robin.  "  An  thou  show  it  not  to  me  I  know  not  to  whom 
thou  wilt  show  it.  But  here  we  are  at  the  sign  of  the  Blue  Boar,  so  let  us  in 
and  taste  his  brown  October." 

No  sweeter  inn  could  be  found  in  all  Nottinghamshire  than  that  of  the  Blue 
Boar.  None  had  such  lovely  trees  standing  around,  or  was  so  covered  with 
trailing  clematis  and  sweet  woodbine ;  none  had  such  good  beer  and  such  hum 
ming  ale  ;  nor,  in  winter  time,  when  the  north  wind  howled  and  snow  drifted 
around  the  hedges,  was  there  to  be  found,  elsewhere,  such  a  roaring  fire  as 
blazed  upon  the  hearth  of  the  Blue  Boar.  At  such  times  might  be  found  a 
goodly  company  of  yeomen  or  country  folk  seated  around  the  blazing  hearth, 
bandying  merry  jests,  while  roasted  crabs  l  bobbed  in  bowls  of  ale  upon  the 
hearthstone.  Well  known  was  the  inn  to  Robin  Hood  and  his  band,  for  there 
had  he  and  such  merry  companions  as  Little  John  or  Will  Stutely  or  young 
David  of  Doncaster  often  gathered  when  all  the  forest  was  filled  with  snow. 
As  for  mine  host,  he  knew  how  to  keep  a  still  tongue  in  his  head,  and  to  swal 
low  his  words  before  they  passed  his  teeth,  for  he  knew  very  well  which  side 
of  his  bread  was  spread  with  butter,  for  Robin  and  his  band  were  the  best  of 

1  Small  sour  apples. 


ROBIN  HOOD  AND    THE   TINKER.  19 

customers,  and  paid  their  scores  without  having  them  chalked  up  behind  the 
door.  So  now,  when  Robin  Hood  and  the  Tinker  came  thereto  and  called 
aloud  for  two  great  pots  of  ale,  none  would  have  known  from  look  or  speech 
that  the  host  had  ever  set  eyes  upon  the  outlaw  before. 

"  Bide  thou  here,"  quoth  Robin  to  the  Tinker,  "  while  I  go  and  see  that  mine 
host  draweth  ale  from  the  right  butt,  for  he  hath  good  October,  I    Kobin  Hood 
know,  and  that  brewed  by  Withold  of  Tarn  worth."     So  saying,    ^f^J^ 
he  went  within  and  whispered  to  the  host  to  add  a  measure  of   sign  of  the  Blue 
Flemish  strong  waters  to  the  good  English  ale  ;  which  the  latter    muddle" him 
did  and  brought  it  to  them.  with  ale- 

"  By  Our  Lady,"  said  the  Tinker,  after  a  long  draught  of  the  ale,  "  yon  same 
Withold  of  Tamworth  —  a  right  good  Saxon  name,  too,  I  would  have  thee  know 
—  breweth  the  most  humming  ale  that  e'er  passed  the  lips  of  Wat  o'  the 
Crabstaff." 

"  Drink,  man,  drink,"  cried  Robin,  only  wetting  his  own  lips  meanwhile. 
"  Ho,  landlord!  bring  my  friend  another  pot  of  the  same.  And  now  for  a  song, 
my  jolly  blade." 

"Ay,  that  will  I  give  thee  a  song,  my  lovely  fellow,"  quoth  the  Tinker,  "for 
I  never  tasted  such  ale  in  all  my  days  before.  By  'r  Lady,  it  doth  make  my 
head  hum  even  now !  Hey,  Dame  Hostess,  come  listen,  an  thou  wouldst  hear 
a  song ;  and  thou  too,  thou  bonny  lass,  for  never  sing  I  so  well  as  when 
bright  eyes  do  look  upon  me  the  while." 

Then  he  sang  an  ancient  ballad  of  the  time  of  good  King  Arthur,  called  the 
Marriage  of  Sir  Gawaine,  which  you  may  some  time  read,  yourself,  in  stout 
English  of  early  times ;  and  as  he  sang,  all  listened  to  that  noble  tale  of  noble 
knight  and  his  sacrifice  to  his  king.  But  long  before  the  Tinker  came  to  the 
last  verse  his  tongue  began  to  trip  and  his  head  to  spin,  because  of  the  strong 
waters  mixed  with  the  ale.  First  his  tongue  tripped,  then  it  grew  thick  of 
sound  ;  then  his  head  wagged  from  side  to  side,  until  at  last  he  fell  asleep  as 
though  he  never  would  waken  again. 

Then  Robin  Hood  laughed  aloud,  and  quickly  took  the  warrant  from  out  the 
Tinker's  pouch  with  his  deft  fingers.  "  Sly  art  thou,  Tinker,"  The  Tinker  fall- 
quoth  he,  "  but  not  yet,  I  trow,  art  thou  as  sly  as  that  same  sly  ^o^fteai^ti. 

thief,  Robin  Hood."  the  warrant. 

Then  he  called  the  host  to  him  and  said,  "  Here,  good  man,  are  ten  broad 
shillings  for  the  entertainment  thou  hast  given  us  this  day.  See  that  thou 
takest  good  care  of  thy  fair  guest  there,  and  when  he  wakes  thou  mayst  again 
charge  him  ten  shillings  also,  and  if  he  hath  it  not,  thou  mayst  take  his  bag  and 
hammer,  and  even  his  coat,  in  payment.  Thus  do  I  punish  those  that  come 
into  the  greenwood  to  deal  dole  to  me.  As  for  thine  own  self,  never  knew  I 
landlord  yet  that  would  not  charge  twice  an  he  could." 


20  ROBIN  HOOD  AND   THE   TINKER. 

At  this  the  host  smiled  slyly,  as  though  saying  to  himself  the  rustic  saw, 
"  Teach  a  magpie  to  suck  eggs." 

The  Tinker  slept  until  the  afternoon  drew  to  a  close  and  the  shadows  grew 
The  Tinker  l°n£  beside  the  woodland  edge,  then  he  awoke.  First  he  looked 
awaketh,  and  the  Up}  then  he  looked  down,  then  he  looked  east,  then  he  looked 

landlord maketh  .  .  . 

him  pay  the  score  west,  for  he  was  gathering  his  wits  together,  like  barley-straws 

"hTeth  Scoafabae  blown  aPart  bv  the  wind-  First  he  thought  of  his  merry  compan- 
and hammer ;  ion,  but  he  was  gone.  Then  he  thought  of  his  stout  crabstaff, 
^owettfvenge'ance  and  that  he  had  within  his  hand.  Then  of  his  warrant,  and  of  the 
against  Robin.  fourscore  angels  he  was  to  gain  for  serving  it  upon  Robin  Hood. 
He  thrust  his  hand  into  his  pouch,  but  not  a  scrap  nor  a  farthing  was  there. 
Then  he  sprang  to  his  feet  in  a  rage. 

"Ho,  landlord!"  cried  he,  "whither  hath  that  knave  gone  that  was  with  me 
but  now  ? " 

"  What  knave  meaneth  your  worship  ?  "  quoth  the  landlord,  calling  the  Tinker 
worship  to  soothe  him,  as  a  man  would  pour  oil  upon  angry  water ;  "  I  saw  no 
knave  with  your  worship,  for  I  swear  no  man  would  dare  call  that  man  knave 
so  nigh  to  Sherwood  Forest.  A  right  stout  yeoman  I  saw  with  your  worship, 
but  I  thought  that  your  worship  knew  him,  for  few  there  be  about  here  that 
pass  him  by  and  know  him  not." 

"  Now,  how  should  I,  that  ne'er  have  squealed  in  your  sty,  know  all  the  swine 
therein  ?  Who  was  he,  then,  an  thou  knowest  him  so  well  ? " 

"  Why,  yon  same  is  a  right  stout  fellow  whom  men  hereabouts  do  call  Robin 
Hood  ;  which  same"  — 

"  Now,  by  'r  Lady  !  "  cried  the  Tinker  hastily,  and  in  a  deep  voice  like  an 
angry  bull,  "thou  didst  see  me  come  into  thine  inn,  I,  a  staunch,  honest  crafts 
man,  and  never  told  me  who  my  company  was,  well  knowing  thine  own  self 
who  he  was.  Now,  I  have  a  right  round  piece  of  a  mind  to  crack  thy  knave's 
pate  for  thee  ! "  Then  he  took  up  his  cudgel  and  looked  at  the  landlord  as 
though  he  would  smite  him  where  he  stood. 

"  Nay,"  cried  the  host,  throwing  up  his  elbow,  for  he  feared  the  blow,  "  how 
knew  I  that  thou  knewest  him  not  ? " 

"  Well  and  truly  thankful  mayst  thou  be,"  quoth  the  Tinker,  "  that  I  be  a 
patient  man,  and  so  do  spare  thy  bald  crown,  else  wouldst  thou  ne'er  cheat  cus 
tomer  again.  But  as  for  this  same  knave,  Robin  Hood,  I  go  straightway  to 
seek  him,  and  if  I  do  not  score  his  knave's  pate,  cut  my  staff  into  fagots  and 
call  me  woman."  So  saying,  he  gathered  himself  together  to  depart. 

"  Nay,"  quoth  the  landlord,  standing  in  front  of  him  and  holding  out  his  arms 
like  a  gooseherd  driving  his  flock,  for  money  made  him  bold,  "  thou  goest  not 
till  thou  hast  paid  me  my  score." 


ROBIN  HOOD  AND   THE   TINKER.  21 

"  But  did  not  he  pay  thee  ? " 

"  Not  so  much  as  one  farthing ;  and  ten  good  shillings'  worth  of  ale  have  ye 
drunk  this  day.  Nay,  I  say,  thou  goest  not  away  without  paying  me,  else  shall 
our  good  sheriff  know  of  it." 

"  But  nought  have  I  to  pay  thee  with,  good  fellow,"  quoth  the  Tinker. 

"  '  Good  fellow  '  not  me,"  said  the  landlord.  "Good  fellow  am  I  not  when  it 
cometh  to  lose  ten  shillings  !  Pay  me  that  thou  owest  me  in  broad  money,  or 
else  leave  thy  coat  and  bag  and  hammer  ;  yet,  I  wot  they  are  not  worth  ten 
shillings,  and  I  shall  lose  thereby.  Nay,  an  thou  stirrest,  I  have  a  great  dog 
within  and  I  will  loose  him  upon  thee.  Maken,  open  thou  the  door  and  let 
forth  Brian  if  this  fellow  stirs  one  step." 

"Nay,"  quoth  the  Tinker,  —  for,  by  roaming  the  country,  he  had  learned 
what  dogs  were,  —  "  take  thou  what  thou  wilt  have,  and  let  me  depart  in  peace, 
and  may  a  murrain  go  with  thee.  But  oh,  landlord  !  an  I  catch  yon  scurvy 
varlet,  I  swear  he  shall  pay  full  with  usury  for  that  he  hath  had !  " 

So  saying,  he  strode  away  toward  the  forest,  talking  to  himself,  while  the 
landlord  and  his  worthy  dame  and  Maken  stood  looking  after  him,  and  laughed 
when  he  had  fairly  gone. 

"  Robin  and  I  have  stripped  yon  ass  of  his  pack  main  neatly,"  quoth  the 
landlord. 

Now  it  happened  about  this  time  that  Robin  Hood  was  going  through  the 
forest  to  Foss  Way,  to  see  what  was  to  be  seen  there,  for  the  moon  was  full 
and  the  night  gave  promise  of  being  bright.     In  his  hand  he  carried  his  stout 
oaken  staff,  and  at  his  side  hung  his  bugle  horn.     As  thus  he  The  Tinker  meet 
walked  up  a  forest  path,  whistling,  down  another  path  came  the  tth  Robin  Hood 
Tinker,  muttering  to  himself  and  shaking  his  head  like  an  angry 
bull ;  and  so,  at  a  sudden  bend,  they  met  sharply  face  to  face.     Each  stood 
still  for  a  time,  and  then  Robin  spoke  :  — 

"  Halloa,  my  sweet  bird,"  said  he,  laughing  merrily,  "  how  likest  thou  thine 
ale  ?  Wilt  not  sing  to  me  another  song  ?  " 

The  Tinker  said  nothing  at  first,  but  stood  looking  at  Robin  with  a  grim  face. 
"  Now,"  quoth  he  at  last,  "  I  am  right  glad  I  have  met  thee,  and  if  I  do  not 
rattle  thy  bones  within  thy  hide  this  day,  I  give  thee  leave  to  put  thy  foot  upon 
my  neck." 

"With  all  my  heart,"  cried  merry  Robin  ;  "rattle  my  bones,  an  thou  canst." 
So  saying,  he  gripped  his  staff  and  threw  himself  upon  his  guard.  Then  the 
Tinker  spat  upon  his  hands,  and,  grasping  his  staff,  came  straight  at  the  other. 
He  struck  two  or  three  blows,  but  soon  found  that  he  had  met  his  match,  for 
Robin  warded  and  parried  all  of  them,  and,  before  the  Tinker  thought,  he  gave 


22  ROBIN  HOOD  AND   THE   TINKER. 

him  a  rap  upon  the  ribs  in  return.  At  this  Robin  laughed  aloud,  and  the 
Tinker  grew  more  angry  than  ever,  and  smote  again  with  all  his  might  and 
main.  Again  Robin  warded  two  of  the  strokes,  but  at  the  third,  his  staff  broke 
beneath  the  mighty  blows  of  the  Tinker.  "  Now,  ill  betide  thee,  traitor  staff," 
cried  Robin,  as  it  fell  from  his  hands  ;  "  a  foul  stick  art  thou  to  serve  me  thus 
in  mine  hour  of  need." 

"  Now  yield  thee,"  quoth  the  Tinker,  "  for  thou  art  my  captive ;  and  if  thou 
do  not,  I  will  beat  thy  pate  to  a  pudding." 

To  this  Robin  Hood  made  no  answer,  but,  clapping  his  horn  to  his  lips,  he 
blew  three  blasts,  loud  and  clear. 

"Ay,"  quoth  the  Tinker,  "  blow  thou  mayest,  but  go  thou  must  with  me  to 
Nottingham  Town,  for  the  Sheriff  would  fain  see  thee  there.  Now  wilt  thou 
yield  thee,  or  shall  I  have  to  break  thy  pretty  head  ? " 

"  An  I  must  drink  sour  ale,  I  must,"  quoth  Robin ;  "  but  never  have  I  yielded 
me  to  man  before,  and  that  without  wound  or  mark  upon  my  body.  Nor,  when 
I  bethink  me,  will  I  yield  now.  Ho,  my  merry  men  !  come  quickly  !  " 

Then  from  out  the  forest  leaped  Little  John  and  six  stout  yeomen  clad  in 
Lincoln  green. 

"  How  now,  good  master,"  cried  Little  John,  "  what  need  hast  thou  that  thou 
dost  wind  thy  horn  so  loudly  ? " 

"  There  stands  a  tinker,"  quoth  Robin,  "  that  would  fain  take  me  to  Netting. 
ham,  there  to  hang  upon  the  gallows  tree." 

"  Then  shall  he  himself  hang  forthwith,"  cried  Little  John  ;  and  he  and  the 
others  made  at  the  Tinker,  to  seize  him. 

"  Nay,  touch  him  not,"  said  Robin,  "  for  a  right  stout  man  is  he.  A  metal 
man  he  is  by  trade,  and  a  mettled  man  by  nature  ;  moreover,  he  doth  sing  a 
lovely  ballad.  Say,  good  fellow,  wilt  thou  join  my  merry  men  all  ?  Three  suits 
of  Lincoln  green  shalt  thou  have  a  year,  beside  twenty  marks  in  fee;  thou 
shalt  share  all  with  us  and  lead  a  right  merry  life  in  the  greenwood ;  for  cares 
have  we  not  and  misfortune  cometh  not  upon  us  within  the  sweet  shades  of 
Sherwood,  where  we  shoot  the  dun  deer,  and  feed  upon  venison  and  sweet 
oaten  cakes,  and  curds  and  honey.  Wilt  thou  come  with  me  ? " 

"  Ay,  marry,  will  I  join  with  you  all,"  quoth  the  Tinker,  "  for  I  love  a  merry 
The  Tinker  join-  life,  and  I  love  thee,  good  master,  though  thou  didst  thwack  my 
eth  the  band.  rj^s  ancj  cheat;  me  jnto  the  bargain.  Fain  am  I  to  own  thou  art 
both  a  stouter  and  a  slyer  man  than  I ;  so  I  will  obey  thee  and  be  thine  own 
true  servant." 

So  all  turned  their  steps  to  the  forest  depths,  where  the  Tinker  was  to  live 
henceforth.  For  many  a  day  he  sang  ballads  to  the  band,  until  the  famous 
Allan  a  Dale  joined  them,  before  whose  sweet  voice  all  others  seemed  as  harsh 
as  a  raven's  ;  but  of  him  we  will  learn  hereafter. 


II. 


The  Shooting-Match  at  Nottingham  Town, 


the  Sheriff  was  very  wroth  because  of  this  failure  to  take  jolly  Robin, 
for  it  came  to  his  ears,  as  ill  news  always  does,  that  the  peo-    The  Sheriff  is 
pie  laughed  at  him  and  made  a  jest  of  his  thinking  to  serve    wroth- 
a  warrant  upon  such  a  one  as  the  bold  outlaw  ;  and  a  man  hates  nothing  so 
much  as  being  made  a  jest  of ;  so  he  said  :  "  Our  gracious  Lord  and  Sovereign 
King  himself  shall  know  of  this,  and  how  his  laws  are  perverted  and  despised 
by  this  band  of  rebel  outlaws.     As  for  yon  traitor  Tinker,  him  will  I  hang,  if 
I  catch  him,  upon  the  very  highest  gallows  tree  in  all  Nottinghamshire." 

Then  he  bade  all  his  servants  and  retainers  to  make  ready  to  go  to  London 
Town,  to  see  and  speak  with  the  King. 

At  this  there  was  bustling  at  the  Sheriff's  castle,  and  men  ran  hither  and 
thither  upon  this  business  and  upon  that,  while  the  forge  fires  of    He  maketll  him 
Nottingham  glowed  red  far  into  the  night  like  twinkling  stars,  for    ready  to  go  to 
all  the  smiths  of  the  town  were  busy  making  or  mending  armor 
for  the  Sheriff's  troop  of  escort.     For  two  days  this  labor  lasted,  then,  on  the 
third,  all  was  ready  for  the  journey.     So  forth  they  started  in  the  bright  sun 
light,  from  Nottingham  Town  to  Fosse  Way  and  thence  to  Watling  Street; 
and  so  they  journeyed  for  two  days,  until  they  saw  at  last  the  spires  and  towers 
of  great  London  Town  ;  and  many  folks  stopped,  as  they  journeyed  along,  and 
gazed  at  the  show  they  made  riding  along  the  highways  with  their  flashing 
armor,  and  gay  plumes  and  trappings. 

In  London  King  Henry  and  his  fair  Queen  Elinor  held  their  court,  gay  with 
ladies  in  silks  and  satins  and  velvets  and  cloth  of  gold,  and  also  brave  knights 
and  gallant  courtiers.  Thither  came  the  Sheriff  and  was  shown  into  the  King's 
presence. 

"  A  boon,  a  boon,"  quoth  he,  as  he  knelt  upon  the  ground. 

"  Now  what  wouldst  thou  have  ? "  said  the   King, 
hear  what  may  be  thy  desires." 

"  O  good  my  Lord  and  Sovereign,"  spake  the  Sheriff,  "  in  Sherwood  Forest, 
in  our  own  good  shire  of  Nottingham,  liveth  a  bold  outlaw  whose  name  is  Robin 
Hood." 

"  In  good  sooth,"  said  the  King,  "  his  doings  have  reached  even  our  own 
royal  ears.  He  is  a  saucy,  rebellious  varlet,  yet,  I  am  fain  to  own,  a  right  merry 
soul  withal." 


110     The  Sheriff  seeth 
US    the  King. 


26  THE  SHOOTING-MATCH  AT  NOTTINGHAM  TOWN. 

"  But  hearken,  O  my  most  gracious  Sovereign,"  said  the  Sheriff.  "  I  sent  a 
warrant  to  him  with  thine  own  royal  seal  attached,  by  a  right  lusty  knave,  but 
he  beat  the  messenger  and  stole  the  warrant.  And  he  killeth  thy  deer  and 
robbeth  thine  own  liege  subjects  even  upon  the  great  highways." 

"  Why,  how  now,"  quoth  the  King,  wrathfully.  "  What  wouldst  thou  have  me 
The  King  is  d°  ?  Comest  thou  not  to  me  with  a  great  array  of  men-at-arms 
wroth.  an(j  retainers,  and  yet  art  not  able  to  take  a  single  band  of  lusty 

knaves  without  armor  on  breast,  in  thine  own  county  !  What  wouldst  thou 
have  me  do  ?  Art  thou  not  my  Sheriff  ?  Are  not  my  laws  in  force  in  Notting 
hamshire  ?  Canst  thou  not  take  thine  own  course  against  those  that  break 
the  laws  or  do  an  injury  to  thee  or  thine  ?  Go,  get  thee  gone,  and  think  well ; 
devise  some  plan  of  thine  own  but  trouble  me  no  further.  But  look  well  to  it, 
master  Sheriff,  for  I  will  have  my  laws  obeyed  by  all  men  within  my  kingdom, 
and  if  thou  art  not  able  to  enforce  them  thou  art  no  sheriff  for  me.  So  look 
well  to  thyself,  I  say,  or  ill  may  befall  thee  as  well  as  all  the  thieving  knaves  in 
Nottinghamshire.  When  the  flood  cometh  it  sweepeth  away  grain  as  well  as 
chaff." 

Then  the  Sheriff  turned  away  with  a  sore  and  troubled  heart,  and  sadly  he 
The  Sheriff  rued  his  fine  show  of  retainers,  for  he  saw  that  the  King  was 
getuth  him  home.  angry  because  he  had  so  many  men  about  him  and  yet  could  not 
enforce  the  laws.  So,  as  they  all  rode  slowly  back  to  Nottingham,  the  Sheriff 
was  thoughtful  and  full  of  care.  Not  a  word  did  he  speak  to  any  one,  and  no 
one  of  his  men  spoke  to  him,  but  all  the  time  he  was  busy  devising  some  plan 
to  take  Robin  Hood. 

"  Aha  ! "  cried  he  suddenly,  smiting  his  hand  upon  his  thigh,  "  I  have  it  now! 
Ride  on,  my  merry  men  all,  and  let  us  get  back  to  Nottingham  Town  as  speed 
ily  as  we  may.  And  mark  well  my  words  :  before  a  fortnight  is  passed,  that 
evil  knave,  Robin  Hood,  will  be  safely  clapped  into  Nottingham  gaol." 

But  what  was  the  Sheriff's  plan  ? 

As  a  Jew  takes  each  one  of  a  bag  of  silver  angels,  feeling  each  coin  to  find 
whether  it  be  clipped  or  not,  so  the  Sheriff,  as  all  rode  slowly  and  sadly  back 
toward  Nottingham,  took  up  thought  after  thought  in  turn,  feeling  around 
the  edges  of  each  but  finding  in  every  one  some  flaw.  At  last  he  thought  of 
the  daring  soul  of  jolly  Robin  and  how,  as  he  the  Sheriff  knew,  he  often  came 
even  within  the  walls  of  Nottingham. 

"  Now,"  thought  the  Sheriff,  "  could  I  but  persuade  Robin  nigh  to  Notting 
ham  Town  so  that  I  could  find  him,  I  warrant  I  would  lay  hands  upon  him  so 
stoutly  that  he  would  never  get  away  again."  Then  of  a  sudden  it  came  to  him 
like  a  flash  that  were  he  to  proclaim  a  great  shooting-match  and  offer  some 
grand  prize,  Robin  Hood  might  be  over-persuaded  by  his  spirit  to  come  to  the 


THE   SHOOTING-MATCH  AT  NOTTINGHAM  TOWN.  27 

butts  ;  and  it  was  this  thought  which  caused  him  to  cry  "  Aha  !  "  and  smite  his 
palm  upon  his  thigh. 

So,  as  soon  as  he  had  returned  safely  to  Nottingham,  he  sent  messengers 
north  and  south,  and  east  and  west,  to  proclaim  through  town,  The  Sheriff pro- 
hamlet,  and  countryside,  this  grand  shooting-match,  and  every  claimeth  a  skoot- 

1-11.1  111  11  •  ing-match  at 

one  was  bidden  that  could  draw  a  long  bow,  and  the  prize  was  to    Nottingham 
be  an  arrow  of  pure  beaten  gold.  Town. 

When  Robin  Hood  first  heard  the  news  of  this  he  was  in  Lincoln  Town,  and 
hastening  back  to  Sherwood  Forest  he  soon  called  all  his  merry  men  about  him 
and  spoke  to  them  thus  :  — 

"  Now  hearken,  my  merry  men  all,  to  the  news  that  I  have  brought  from  Lin 
coln  Town  to-day.  Our  friend  the  Sheriff  of  Nottingham  hath  Robin  keareth  of 
proclaimed  a  shooting-match,  and  hath  sent  messengers  to  tell  ^atch'an'/fixeth 
of  it  through  all  the  country  side,  and  the  prize  is  to  be  a  bright  t°g°  thereunto, 
golden  arrow.  Now  I  fain  would  have  one  of  us  win  it,  both  because  of  the 
fairness  of  the  prize  and  because  our  sweet  friend  the  Sheriff  hath  offered  it. 
So  we  will  take  our  bows  and  shafts  and  go  there  to  shoot,  for  I  know  right 
well  that  merriment  will  be  a-going.  What  say  ye,  lads  ?  " 

Then  young  David  of  Doncaster  spoke  up  and  said  :  "  Now  listen,  I  pray 
thee,  good  master,  unto  what  I  say.  I  have  come  straight  from  our  friend 
Eadom  o'  the  Blue  Boar,  and  there  I  heard  the  full  news  of  this  same  match. 
But,  master,  I  know  from  him,  and  he  got  it  from  the  Sheriff's  man  Ralph  o' 
the  Scar,  that  this  same  knavish  Sheriff  hath  but  laid  a  trap  for  thee  in  this 
shooting-match  and  wishes  nothing  so  much  as  to  see  thee  there.  So  go  not, 
good  master,  for  I  know  right  well  he  doth  seek  to  beguile  thee,  but  stay  within 
the  greenwood  lest  we  all  meet  dole  and  woe." 

"  Now,"  quoth  Robin,  "  thou  art  a  wise  lad  and  keepest  thine  ears  open  and 
thy  mouth  shut,  as  becometh  a  wise  and  crafty  woodsman.  But  shall  we  let  it 
be  said  that  the  Sheriff  of  Nottingham  did  cow  bold  Robin  Hood  and  seven- 
score  as  fair  archers  as  are  in  all  merry  England  ?  Nay,  good  David,  what  thou 
tellest  me  maketh  me  to  desire  the  prize  even  more  than  I  else  should  do.  But 
what  sayeth  our  good  gossip  Swanthold  ?  is  it  not  '  A  hasty  man  burneth  his 
mouth,  and  the  fool  that  keepeth  his  eyes  shut  falleth  into  the  pit  ? '  Thus 
he  says,  truly,  therefore  we  must  meet  guile  with  guile.  Now  some  of  you 
clothe  yourselves  as  curtal  friars,  and  some  as  rustic  peasants,  and  some  as  tin 
kers,  or  as  beggars,  but  see  that  each  man  taketh  a  good  bow  or  broadsword,  in 
case  need  should  arise.  As  for  myself,  I  will  shoot  for  this  same  golden  arrow, 
and  should  I  win  it,  we  will  hang  it  to  the  branches  of  our  good  greenwood  tree 
for  the  joy  of  all  the  band.  How  like  you  the  plan,  my  merry  men  all  ?  " 

Then  "  good,  good  !  "  cried  all  the  band  right  heartily. 


28     .        THE  SHOOTING-MATCH  AT  NOTTINGHAM  TOWN. 

A  fair  sight  was  Nottingham  Town  on  the  day  of  the  shooting-match.  All 
The  merr  match  a^onS  uP°n  the  green  meadow  beneath  the  town  wall  stretched  a 
at  Nottingham  row  of  benches,  one  above  the  other,  which  were  for  knight  and 
lady,  squire  and  dame,  and  rich  burghers  and  their  wives  ;  for 
none  but  those  of  rank  and  quality  were  to  sit  there.  At  the  end  of  the  range, 
near  the  target,  was  a  raised  seat  bedecked  with  ribbons  and  scarfs  and  gar 
lands  of  flowers,  for  the  Sheriff  of  Nottingham  and  his  dame.  The  range  was 
two  score  paces  broad.  At  one  end  stood  the  target,  at  the  other  a  tent  of 
striped  canvas,  from  the  pole  of  which  fluttered  many-colored  flags  and 
streamers.  In  this  booth  were  casks  of  ale,  free  to  be  broached  by  any  of  the 
archers  who  might  wish  to  quench  their  thirst. 

Across  the  range  from  where  the  seats  for  the  better  folk  were  raised  was  a 
railing  to  keep  the  poorer  people  from  crowding  in  front  of  the  target.  Al 
ready,  while  it  was  early,  the  benches  were  beginning  to  fill  with  people  of 
quality,  who  kept  constantly  arriving  in  little  carts,  or  upon  palfreys  that  cur 
veted  gayly  to  the  merry  tinkle  of  silver  bells  at  bridle-reins ;  with  these  came 
also  the  poorer  folk,  who  sat  or  lay  upon  the  green  grass  near  the  railing  that 
kept  them  from  off  the  range.  In  the  great  tent  the  archers  were  gathering 
by  twos  and  threes  ;  some  talking  loudly  of  the  fair  shots  each  man  had  made 
in  his  day ;  some  looking  well  to  their  bows,  drawing  a  string  betwixt  the 
fingers  to  see  that  there  was  no  fray  upon  it,  or  inspecting  arrows,  shutting 
one  eye  and  peering  down  a  shaft  to  see  that  it  was  not  warped,  but  straight 
and  true,  for  neither  bow  nor  shaft  should  fail  at  such  a  time  and  for  such  a 
prize.  And  never  were  such  a  company  of  yeomen  as  were  gathered  at  Not 
tingham  Town  that  day,  for  the  very  best  archers  of  merry  England  had  come 
to  this  shooting-match.  There  was  Gill  o'  the  Red  Cap,  the  Sheriff's  own  head 
archer,  and  Diccon  Cruikshank  of  Lincoln  Town,  and  Adam  o'  the  Dell,  a  man 
of  Tamworth,  of  threescore  years  and  more,  yet  hale  and  lusty  still,  who  in 
his  time  had  shot  in  the  famous  match  at  Woodstock,  and  had  there  beaten 
that  renowned  archer,  Clym  o'  the  Clough.  And  many  more  famous  men  of 
the  long  bow  were  there,  whose  names  have  been  handed  down  to  us  in  goodly 
ballads  of  the  olden  time. 

But  now  all  the  benches  were  filled  with  guests,  lord  and  lady,  burgher  and 
dame,  when  at  last  the  Sheriff  himself  came  with  his  lady,  he  riding  with  stately 
mien  upon  his  milk-white  horse  and  she  upon  her  brown  filly.  Upon  his  head 
he  wore  a  purple  velvet  cap,  and  purple  velvet  was  his  robe,  all  trimmed  about 
with  rich  ermine  ;  his  jerkin  and  hose  were  of  sea-green  silk,  and  his  shoes  of 
black  velvet,  the  pointed  toes  fastened  to  his  garters  with  golden  chains.  A 
golden  chain  hung  about  his  neck,  and  at  his  collar  was  a  great  carbuncle  set 
in  red  gold.  His  lady  was  dressed  in  blue  velvet,  all  trimmed  with  swan's 


THE  SHOOTING-MATCH  AT  NOTTINGHAM  TOWN.  29 

down.  So  they  made  a  gallant  sight  as  they  rode  along  side  by  side,  and  all 
the  people  shouted  from  where  they  crowded  across  the  space  from  the  gentle 
folk  ;  so  the  Sheriff  and  his  lady  came  to  their  place,  where  men-at-arms,  with 
hauberk  and  spear,  stood  about,  waiting  for  them. 

Then  when  the  Sheriff  and  his  dame  had  sat  down,  he  bade  his  herald  wind 
upon  his  silver  horn  ;  who  thereupon  sounded  three  blasts  that  came  echoing 
cheerily  back  from  the  gray  walls  of  Nottingham.  Then  the  archers  stepped 
forth  to  their  places,  while  all  the  folk  shouted  with  a  mighty  voice,  each  man 
calling  upon  his  favorite  yeoman.  "  Red  Cap  ! "  cried  some  ;  "  Cruikshank  ! " 
cried  others ;  "  Hey  for  William  o'  Leslie  ! "  shouted  others  yet  again  ;  while 
ladies  waved  silken  scarfs  to  urge  each  yeoman  to  do  his  best. 

Then  the  herald  stood  forth  and  loudly  proclaimed  the  rules  of  the  game  as 
follows  :  — 

"  Shoot  each  man  from  yon  mark,  which  is  sevenscore  yards  and  ten  from 
the  target.  One  arrow  shooteth  each  man  first,  and  from  all  the  archers  shall 
the  ten  that  shooteth  the  fairest  shafts  be  chosen  for  to  shoot  again.  Two 
arrows  shooteth  each  man  of  these  ten,  then  shall  the  three  that  shoot  the  fair 
est  shafts  be  chosen  for  to  shoot  again.  Three  arrows  shooteth  each  man  of 
those  three,  and  to  him  that  shooteth  the  fairest  shafts  shall  the  prize  be 
given." 

Then  the  Sheriff  leaned  forward,  looking  keenly  among  the  press  of  archers 
to  find  whether  Robin  Hood  was  amongst  them  ;  but  no  one  was  there  clad  in 
Lincoln  green,  such  as  was  worn  by  Robin  and  his  band.  "  Nevertheless," 
said  the  Sheriff  to  himself,  "  he  may  still  be  there,  and  I  miss  him  among  the 
crowd  of  other  men.  But  let  me  see  when  but  ten  men  shoot,  for  I  wot  he 
will  be  among  the  ten,  or  I  know  him  not." 

And  now  the  archers  shot,  each  man  in  turn,  and  the  good  folk  never  saw 
such  archery  as  was  done  that  day.     Six  arrows  were  within  the    The  archers 
clout,  four  within  the  black,  and  only  two  smote  the  outer  ring ;    shoot- 
so  that  when  the  last  arrow  sped  and  struck  the  target,  all  the  people  shouted 
aloud,  for  it  was  noble  shooting. 

And  now  but  ten  men  were  left  of  all  those  that  had  shot  before,  and  of  these 
ten,  six  were  famous  throughout  the  land,  and  most  of  the  folk  gathered  there 
knew  them.  These  six  men  were  Gilbert  o'  the  Red  Cap,  Adam  o'  the  Dell, 
Diccon  Cruikshank,  William  o'  Leslie,  Hubert  o'  Cloud,  and  Swithin  o'  Hert 
ford.  Two  others  were  yeomen  of  merry  Yorkshire,  another  was  a  tall  stran 
ger  in  blue,  who  said  he  came  from  London  Town,  and  the  last  was  a  tattered 
stranger  in  scarlet,  who  wore  a  patch  over  one  eye. 

"  Now,"  quoth  the  Sheriff  to  a  man-at-arms  who  stood  near  him,  "  seest  thou 
Robin  Hood  amongst  those  ten  ? " 


30  THE  SHOOTING-MATCH  AT  NOTTINGHAM   TOWN. 

"  Nay,  that  do  I  not,  your  worship,"  answered  the  man.  "  Six  of  them  I 
know  right  well.  Of  those  Yorkshire  yeomen,  one  is  too  tall  and  the  other  too 
short  for  that  bold  knave.  Robin's  beard  is  as  yellow  as  gold,  while  yon  tat 
tered  beggar  in  scarlet  hath  a  beard  of  brown,  besides  being  blind  of  one  eye. 
As  for  the  stranger  in  blue,  Robin's  shoulders,  I  ween,  are  three  inches  broader 
than  his." 

"  Then,"  quoth  the  Sheriff,  smiting  his  thigh  angrily,  "  yon  knave  is  a  coward 
as  well  as  a  rogue,  and  dares  not  show  his  face  among  good  men  and  true." 

Then,  after  they  had  rested  a  short  time,  those  ten  stout  men  stepped  forth 
to  shoot  again.  Each  man  shot  two  arrows,  and  as  they  shot,  not  a  word  was 
spoken,  but  all  the  crowd  watched  with  scarce  a  breath  of  sound  ;  but  when  the 
last  had  shot  his  arrow  another  great  shout  arose,  while  many  cast  their  caps 
aloft  for  joy  of  such  marvellous  shooting. 

"  Now  by  our  gracious  Lady  fair,"  quoth  old  Sir  Amyas  o'  the  Dell,  who, 
bowed  with  fourscore  years  and  more,  sat  near  the  Sheriff,  "  ne'er  saw  I  such 
archery  in  all  my  life  before,  yet  have  I  seen  the  best  hands  at  the  long  bow 
for  threescore  years  and  more." 

And  now  but  three  men  were  left  of  all  those  that  had  shot  before.  One 
was  Gill  o'  the  Red  Cap,  one  the  tattered  stranger  in  scarlet,  and  one  Adam  o' 
the  Dell  of  Tamworth  Town.  Then  all  the  people  called  aloud,  some  crying, 
"  Ho  for  Gilbert  o'  the  Red  Cap  !  "  and  some,  "  Hey  for  stout  Adam  o'  Tam 
worth  !"  but  not  a  single  man  in  the  crowd  called  upon  the  stranger  in  scarlet. 

"  Now,  shoot  thou  well,  Gilbert,"  cried  the  Sheriff,  "  and  if  thine  be  the  best 
shaft,  fivescore  broad  silver  pennies  will  I  give  to  thee  beside  the  prize." 

"  Truly  I  will  do  my  best,"  quoth  Gilbert,  right  sturdily.  "  A  man  cannot  do 
aught  but  his  best,  but  that  will  I  strive  to  do  this  day."  So  saying,  he  drew 
forth  a  fair  smooth  arrow  with  a  broad  feather  and  fitted  it  deftly  to  the  string, 
then  drawing  his  bow  with  care  he  sped  the  shaft.  Straight  flew  the  arrow  and 
lit  fairly  in  the  clout,  a  finger  breadth  from  the  centre.  "  A  Gilbert,  a  Gilbert !  " 
shouted  all  the  crowd  ;  and,  "  Now,  by  my  faith,"  cried  the  Sheriff,  smiting  his 
hands  together,  "  that  is  a  shrewd  shot." 

Then  the  tattered  stranger  stepped  forth,  and  all  the  people  laughed  as  they 
He  of  the  tattered  saw  a  ye^ow  patch  that  showed  beneath  his  arm  when  he  raised 
garb  beateth  Gill  his  elbow  to  shoot,  and  also  to  see  him  aim  with  but  one  eye.  He 
drew  the  good  yew  bow  quickly,  and  quickly  loosed  a  shaft  ;  so 
short  was  the  time  that  no  man  could  draw  a  breath  betwixt  the  drawing  and 
the  shooting ;  yet  his  arrow  lodged  nearer  the  centre  than  the  other  by  twice 
the  length  of  a  barleycorn. 

"  Now  by  all  the  saints  in  Paradise ! "  cried  the  Sheriff,  "  that  is  a  lovely 
shaft  in  very  truth  !  " 


THE   SHOOTING-MATCH  AT  NOTTINGHAM  TOWN.  31 

Then  Adam  o'  the  Dell  shot,  carefully  and  cautiously,  and  his  arrow  lodged 
close  beside  the  stranger's.  Then  after  a  short  space  they  all  three  shot  again, 
and  once  more  each  arrow  lodged  within  the  clout,  but  this  time  Adam  o'  the 
Dell's  was  farthest  from  the  centre,  and  again  the  tattered  stranger's  shot  was 
the  best.  Then,  after  another  time  of  rest,  they  all  shot  for  the  third  time. 
This  time  Gilbert  took  great  heed  to  his  aim,  keenly  measuring  the  distance 
and  shooting  with  shrewdest  care.  Straight  flew  the  arrow,  and  all  shouted  till 
the  very  flags  that  waved  in  the  breeze  shook  with  the  sound,  and  the  rooks  and 
daws  flew  clamoring  about  the  roofs  of  the  old  gray  tower,  for  the  shaft  had 
lodged  close  beside  the  spot  that  marked  the  very  centre. 

"  Well  done,  Gilbert !  "  cried  the  Sheriff,  right  joyously.  "Fain  am  I  to  be 
lieve  the  prize  is  thine,  and  right  fairly  won.  Now,  thou  ragged  knave,  let  me 
see  thee  shoot  a  better  shaft  than  that." 

Naught  spake  the  stranger  but  took  his  place,  while  all  was  hushed,  and  no 
one  spoke  or  even  seemed  to  breathe,  so  great  was  the  silence  for    Thestran  er  in 
wonder  what  he  would  do.     Meanwhile,  also,  quite  still  stood  the    scarlet  winneth 
stranger  holding  his  bow  in  his  hand,  while  one  could  count  five  ; 
then  he  drew  his  trusty  yew,  holding  it  drawn  but  a  moment,  then  loosed  the 
string.     Straight  flew  the  arrow,  and  so  true  that  it  smote  a  gray  goose  feather 
from  off  Gilbert's  shaft,  which  fell  fluttering  through  the  sunlit  air  as  the  stran 
ger's  arrow  lodged  close   beside  his  of   the  red  cap,  and  in  the  very  centre. 
No  one  spoke  a  word  for  a  while  and  no  one  shouted,  but  each  man  looked  into 
his  neighbor's  face  amazedly. 

"  Nay,"  quoth  old  Adam  o'  the  Dell  presently,  drawing  a  long  breath  and 
shaking  his  head  as  he  spoke  ;  "  twoscore  years  and  more  have  I  shot  shaft, 
and  maybe  not  all  times  bad,  but  I  shoot  no  more  this  day,  for  no  man  can 
match  with  yon  stranger,  whosoe'er  he  may  be."  Then  he  thrust  his  shaft 
into  his  quiver,  rattling,  and  unstrung  his  bow  without  another  word. 

Then  the  Sheriff  came  down  from  his  dais  and  drew  near,  in  all  his  silks  and 
velvets,  to  where  the  tattered  stranger  stood  leaning  upon  his  stout  bow,  whilst 
the  good  folk  crowded  around  to  see  the  man  who  shot  so  wondrously  well. 
"  Here,  good  fellow,"  quoth  the  Sheriff,  "  take  thou  the  prize,  and  well  and 
fairly  hast  thou  won  it,  I  trow.  What  may  be  thy  name,  and  whence  comest 
thou  ?  " 

"  Men  do  call  me  Jock  o'  Teviotdale,  and  thence  am  I  come,"  said  the  stran 
ger. 

"  Then,  by  Our  Lady,  Jock,  thou  art  the  fairest  archer  that  e'er  mine  eyes  be 
held,  and  if  thou  wilt  join  my  service  I  will  clothe  thee  with  a  better  coat  than 
that  thou  hast  upon  thy  back  ;  thou  shalt  eat  and  drink  of  the  best,  and  at  every 
Christmas-tide  fourscore  marks  shall  be  thy  wage.  I  trow  thou  drawest  better 


32  THE  SHOOTING-MATCH  AT  NOTTINGHAM  TOWN. 

bow  than  that  same  coward  knave,  Robin  Hood,  that  dared  not  show  his  face 
here  this  day.  Say,  good  fellow,  wilt  thou  join  my  service  ?  " 

"  Nay,  that  will  I  not,"  quoth  the  stranger,  roughly.  "  I  will  be  mine  own, 
and  no  man  in  all  merry  England  shall  be  my  master." 

"Then  get  thee  gone,  and  a  murrain  seize  thee  ! "  cried  the  Sheriff,  and  his 
voice  trembled  with  anger.  "  And  by  my  faith  and  troth  I  have  a  good  part  of 
a  mind  to  have  thee  beaten  for  thine  insolence  ! "  Then  he  turned  upon  his 
heel  and  strode  away. 

It  was  a  right  motley  company  that  gathered  about  the  noble  greenwood  tree 
Robin  and  his  *n  Sherwood's  depths  that  same  day.  A  score  and  more  of  bare- 
band  come  again  foot  friars  were  there,  and  some  that  looked  like  tinkers,  and  some 
that  seemed  to  be  sturdy  beggars  and  rustic  hinds ;  and  seated 
upon  a  mossy  couch  was  one  all  clad  in  tattered  scarlet,  with  a  patch  over  one 
eye  ;  and  in  his  hand  he  held  the  golden  arrow  that  was  the  prize  of  the  great 
shooting-match.  Then,  amidst  a  noise  of  talking  and  laughter,  he  took  the 
patch  from  off  his  eye  and  stripped  away  the  scarlet  rags  from  off  his  body  and 
showed  himself  all  clothed  in  fair  Lincoln  green,  and  quoth  he :  "  Easy  come 
these  things  away,  but  walnut  stain  cometh  not  so  speedily  from  yellow  hair." 
Then  all  laughed  louder  than  before,  for  it  was  Robin  Hood  himself  that  had 
won  the  prize  from  the  Sheriff's  very  hands. 

Then  all  sat  down  to  the  woodland  feast  and  talked  amongst  themselves  of 
the  merry  jest  that  had  been  played  upon  the  Sheriff,  and  of  the  adventures 
that  had  befallen  each  member  of  the  band  in  his  disguise.  But  when  the  feast 
was  done,  Robin  Hood  took  Little  John  apart  and  said,  "  Truly  am  I  vexed  in 
my  blood,  for  I  heard  the  Sheriff  say  to-day,  '  Thou  shootest  better  than  that 
coward  knave,  Robin  Hood,  that  dared  not  show  his  face  here  this  day.'  I 
would  fain  let  him  know  who  it  was  who  won  the  golden  arrow  from  out  his 
hand,  and  also  that  I  am  no  coward  such  as  he  takes  me  to  be." 

Then  Little  John  said,  "  Good  master,  take  thou  me  and  Will  Stutely  and  we 
will  send  yon  fat  Sheriff  news  of  all  this  by  a  messenger  such  as  he  doth  not 
expect." 

That  day  the  Sheriff  sat  at  meat  in  the  great  hall  of  his  house  at  Nottingham 
Robin  Hood  Town.  Long  tables  stood  down  the  hall,  at  which  sat  men-at- 
Jjfjii**'  arms  and  household  servants  and  good  stout  villains,1  in  all  four- 
Skeriff.  score  and  more.  There  they  talked  of  the  day's  shooting  as  they 

ate  their  meat  and  quaffed  their  ale.  The  Sheriff  sat  at  the  head  of  the  table 
upon  a  raised  seat  under  a  canopy,  and  beside  him  sat  his  dame. 

"By  my  troth,"  said  he,  "I  did  reckon  full  roundly  that  that  knave,  Robin 
Hood,  would  be  at  the  game  to-day.  I  did  not  think  that  he  was  such  a  coward. 

1  Bond-servants. 


THE  SHOOTING-MATCH  AT  NOTTINGHAM  TOWN. 


33 


But  who  could  that  saucy  knave  be  who  answered  me  to  my  beard  so  bravely  ? 
I  wonder  that  I  did  not  have  him  beaten  ;  but  there  was  something  about  him 
that  spoke  of  other  things  than  rags  and  tatters." 

Then,  even  as  he  finished  speaking,  something  fell  rattling  among  the  dishes 
on  the  table,  while  those  that  sat  near  started  up  wondering  what  it  might  be. 
After  awhile  one  of  the  men-at-arms  gathered  courage  enough  to  pick  it  up  and 
bring  it  to  the  Sheriff.  Then  every  one  saw  that  it  was  a  blunted  gray  goose 
shaft,  with  a  fine  scroll,  about  the  thickness  of  a  goose  quill,  tied  near  to  its 
head.  The  Sheriff  opened  the  scroll  and  glanced  at  it,  while  the  veins  upon 
his  forehead  swelled  and  his  cheeks  grew  ruddy  with  rage  as  he  read,  for  this 
was  what  he  saw  :  — 

» 

"  Now  Heaven  bless  thy  grace  this  day, 

Say  all  in  sweet  Sherwood, 
for  thou  didst  give  the  prize  away 
To  merry  Robin  Hood." 

"  Whence  came  this  ? "  cried  the  Sheriff  in  a  mighty  voice. 
"Even  through  the  window,  your  worship,"  quoth  the  man  who  had  handed 
the  shaft  to  him. 

3 


III. 

Will  Stutely  rescued  by    his  Good  Compan 
ions. 

N"  OW  when  the  Sheriff  found  that  neither  law  nor  guile  could  overcome 
Robin  Hood,  he  was  much  perplexed,  and  said  to  himself,  "  Fool  that  I 
am  !  Had  I  not  told  our  King  of  Robin  Hood,  I  would  not  have  gotten 
The  Sheriff  try-  myself  into  such  a  coil ;  but  now  I  must  either  take  him  captive 
etRobinCand<hisSt  or  nave  wratn  visited  upon  my  head  from  his  most  gracious  Maj- 
band.  esty.  I  have  tried  law,  and  I  have  tried  guile,  and  I  have  failed 

in  both ;  so  I  will  try  what  may  be  done  with  might." 

Thus  communing  within  himself,  he  called  his  constables  together  and  told 
them  what  was  in  his  mind.  "  Now  take  ye  each  four  men,  all  armed  in  proof," 
said  he,  "and  get  ye  gone  to  the  forest,  at  different  points,  and  lay  in  wait  for 
this  same  Robin  Hood.  But  if  any  constable  finds  too  many  men  against  him, 
let  him  sound  a  horn,  and  then  let  each  band  within  hearing  come  with  all 
speed  and  join  the  party  that  calls  them.  Thus,  I  think,  shall  we  take  this 
green-clad  knave.  Furthermore,  to  him  that  first  meeteth  with  Robin  Hood 
shall  one  hundred  pounds  of  silver  money  be  given,  if  he  be  brought  to  me, 
dead  or  alive  ;  and  to  him  that  meeteth  with  any  of  his  band  shall  twoscore 
pounds  be  given,  if  such  be  brought  to  me  dead  or  alive.  So,  be  ye  bold  and 
be  ye  crafty." 

So  thus  they  went  in  threescore  companies  of  five  to  Sherwood  Forest,  to 
take  Robin  Hood,  each  constable  wishing  that  he  might  be  the  one  to  find  the 
bold  outlaw,  or  at  least  one  of  his  band.  For  seven  days  and  nights  they 
hunted  through  the  forest  glades,  but  never  saw  so  much  as  a  single  man  in 
Lincoln  green  ;  for  tidings  of  all  this  had  been  brought  to  Robin  Hood  by 
trusty  Eadom  o'  the  Blue  Boar. 

When  he  first  heard  the  news,  Robin  said,  "  If  the  Sheriff  dare  send  force  to 
meet  force,  woe  will  it  be  for  him  and  many  a  better  man  beside,  for  blood 
will  flow,  and  there  will  be  great  trouble  for  all.  But  fain  would  I  shun  blood 
and  battle,  and  fain  would  I  not  deal  sorrow  to  women  folk  and  wives  because 
good  stout  yeomen  lose  their  lives.  Once  I  slew  a  man,  and  never  do  I  wish  to 
slay  a  man  again,  for  it  is  bitter  for  the  soul  to  think  thereon.  So  now  we  will 
abide  silently  in  Sherwood  Forest,  so  that  it  may  be  well  for  all ;  but  should 


WILL   STUTELY  RESCUED  BY  HIS   GOOD   COMPANIONS.      35 

we  be  forced  to  defend  ourselves,  or  any  of  our  band,  then  let  each  man  draw 
bow  and  brand  with  might  and  main." 

At  this  speech  many  of  the  band  shook  their  heads,  and  said  to  themselves, 
"Now  the  Sheriff  will  think  that  we  are  cowards,  and  folk  will    Robin  and  his 

...  .  •  i  •          ,,1  t  band  abide  with- 

scoff  throughout   the  countryside,  saying  that  we  tear  to  meet    /«  Sherwood 


these   men."      But   they    said    nothing   aloud,    swallowing   their 
words,  and  doing  as  Robin  bade  them.  selves. 

Thus  they  hid  in  the  depths  of  Sherwood  Forest  for  seven  days  and  seven 
nights,  and  never  showed  their  faces  abroad  in  all  that  time  ;  but  early  in  the 
morning  of  the  eighth  day  Robin  Hood  called  the  band  together  and  said, 
"  Now  who  will  go  and  find  what  the  Sheriff's  men  are  at  by  this  time  ?  for  I 
know  right  well  they  will  not  bide  forever  within  Sherwood  shades." 

At  this  a  great  shout  arose,  and  each  man  waved  his  bow  aloft  and  cried  that 
he  might  be  the  one  to  go.  Then  Robin  Hood's  heart  was  proud  when  he 
looked  around  on  his  stout,  brave  fellows,  and  he  said,  "  Brave  and  true  are  ye 
all,  my  merry  men,  and  a  right  stout  band  of  good  fellows  are  ye  ;  but  ye  can 
not  all  go,  so  I  will  choose  one  from  amongst  you,  and  it  shall  be  good  Will 
Stutely,  for  he  is  as  sly  as  e'er  an  old  dog  fox  in  Sherwood  Forest." 

Then  Will  Stutely  leaped  high  aloft  and  laughed  loudly,  clapping  his  hands, 
for  pure  joy  that  he  should  have  been  chosen  from  amongst  them  all.  "Now 
thanks,  good  master,"  quoth  he,  "  and  if  I  bring  not  news  of  those  knaves  to 
thee,  call  me  no  more  thy  sly  Will  Stutely." 

Then  he  clad  himself  in  a  friar's  gown,  and  underneath  the  robe  he  hung  a 
good  broadsword  in  such  a  place  that  he  could  easily  lay  hands  Will  Stutely  Co 
upon  it.  Thus  clad,  he  set  forth  upon  his  quest,  until  he  came  to 
the  verge  of  the  forest,  and  so  to  the  highway.  He  saw  two  bands  Doings. 
of  the  Sheriff's  men,  yet  he  turned  neither  to  the  right  nor  the  left,  but 
only  drew  his  cowl  the  closer  over  his  face,  folding  his  hands  as  if  in  medita 
tion.  So  at  last  he  came  to  the  Sign  of  the  Blue  Boar.  "  For,"  quoth  he  to 
himself,  "  our  good  friend  Eadom  will  tell  me  all  the  news." 

At  the  Sign  of  the  Blue  Boar  he  found  a  band  of  the  Sheriff's  men  drinking 
right  lustily  ;  so,  without  speaking  to  any  one,  he  sat  down  upon    He  cometh  unto 
a  distant  bench,  his  staff  in  his  hand,  and  his  head  bowed  forward    the  good  Sign  of 
as  though  he  were  meditating.     Thus  he  sat  waiting  until  he 
might  see  the  landlord  apart,  and  Eadom  did  not  know  him,  but  thought  him 
to  be  some  poor  tired  friar,  so  he  let  him  sit  without  saying  a  word  to  him  or 
molesting  him,  though  he  liked  not  the  cloth  ;  "  for,"  said  he  to  himself,  "  it  is 
a  hard  heart  that  kicks  the  lame  dog  from  off  the  sill." 

As  Stutely  sat  thus,  there  came  a  great  house  cat  and  rubbed  against  his 
knee,  raising  his  robe  a  palm's  breadth  high.  Stutely  pushed  his  robe  quickly 


36      WILL  STUTELY  RESCUED  BY  HIS   GOOD   COMPANIONS. 

down  again,  but  the  constable  who  commanded  the  Sheriff's  men  saw  what  had 
passed,  and  saw  also  fair  Lincoln  green  beneath  the  friar's  robe.  He  said 
nothing  at  the  time,  but  communed  within  himself  in  this  wise  :  "  Yon  is  no 
The  constable  sus-  friar  of  orders  gray,  and  also,  I  wot,  no  honest  yeoman  goeth 
pitioneth  him.  about  in  priest's  garb,  nor  doth  a  thief  go  so  for  naught.  Now  I 
think  in  good  sooth  that  is  one  of  Robin  Hood's  own  men."  So,  presently,  he 
said  aloud  :  — 

"  O  holy  father,  wilt  thou  not  take  a  good  pot  of  March  beer  to  slake  thy 
thirsty  soul  withal  ?  "  But  Stutely  shook  his  head  silently,  for  he  said  to  him 
self,  "  Maybe  there  be  those  here  who  know  my  voice." 

Then  the  constable  said  again,  "  Whither  goest  thou,  holy  friar,  upon  this 
hot  summer's  day  ?  " 

"I  go  a  pilgrim  to  Canterbury  Town,"  answered  Will  Stutely,  speaking 
gruffly,  so  that  none  might  know  his  voice. 

Then  the  constable  said,  for  the  third  time,  "  Now  tell  me,  holy  father,  do 
pilgrims  to  Canterbury  wear  good  Lincoln  green  beneath  their  robes  ?  Ha  ! 
by  my  faith,  I  take  thee  to  be  some  lusty  thief,  and  perhaps  one  of  Robin 
Hood's  own  band  !  Now,  by  Our  Lady's  grace,  if  thou  movest  hand  or  foot,  I 
will  run  thee  through  the  -body  with  my  sword  !  " 

Then  he  flashed  forth  his  bright  sword  and  leaped  upon  Will  Stutely,  thinking 
he  would  take  him  unaware  ;  but  Stutely  had  his  own  sword  tightly  held  in  his 
hand,  beneath  his  robe,  so  he  drew  it  forth  before  the  constable  came  upon 
him.  Then  the  stout  constable  struck  a  mighty  blow  ;  but  he  struck  no  more 
t  and  *n  a^  tnat  ngnt>  ^or  Stutely,  parrying  the  blow  right  deftly,  smote 


Will  Stutely  is  the  constable  back  again  with  all  his  might.  Then  he  would  have 
escaped,  but  could  not,  for  the  other,  all  dizzy  with  the  wound 
and  with  the  flowing  blood,  seized  him  by  the  knees  with  his  arms  even  as  he 
reeled  and  fell.  Then  the  others  rushed  upon  him,  and  Stutely  struck  again 
at  another  of  the  Sheriff's  men,  but  the  steel  cap  glanced  the  blow,  and  though 
the  blade  bit  deep,  it  did  not  kill.  Meanwhile,  the  constable,  fainting  as  he  was, 
drew  Stutely  downward,  and  the  others,  seeing  the  yeoman  hampered  so, 
rushed  upon  him  again,  and  one  smote  him  a  blow  upon  the  crown  so  that  the 
blood  ran  down  his  face  and  blinded  him.  Then,  staggering,  he  fell,  and  all 
sprang  upon  him,  though  he  struggled  so  manfully  that  they  could  hardly  hold 
him  fast.  Then  they  bound  him  with  stout  hempen  cords  so  that  he  could  not 
move  either  hand  or  foot,  and  thus  they  overcame  him.  But  it  was  a  doleful 
day's  doings  for  two  of  that  band  ;  for  the  constable  was  sorely  wounded,  and 
the  other,  that  Stutely  smote  upon  the  crown,  lay  sick  for  many  a  day  ere  he 
was  the  stout  man  that  he  had  been  before  this  famous  fight. 

Robin  Hood  stood  under  the  greenwood  tree,  thinking  of  Will  Stutely  and 


WILL   STUTELY  RESCUED  BY  HIS   GOOD   COMPANIONS.      37 

how  he  might  be  faring,  when  suddenly  he  saw  two  of  his  stout  yeomen  come 
running   down    the  forest   path,  and   betwixt   them   ran  buxom    The  news  is 
Maken  of  the  Blue  Boar.     Then  Robin's  heart  fell,  for  he  knew    brought  to  Robin 

.  .......  ,.  Hood. 

they  were  the  bearers  of  ill  tidings. 

"  Will  Stutely  hath  been  taken,"  cried  they,  when  they  had  come  to  where 
he  stood. 

"And  is  it  thou  that  hast  brought  such  doleful  news?"  said  Robin  to  the 
lass. 

"Ay,  marry,  for  I  saw  it  all,"  cried  she,  panting  as  the  hare  pants  when  it 
has  escaped  the  hounds  ;  "  and  I  fear  he  is  wounded  sore,  for  one  smote  him 
main  shrewdly  i'  the  crown.  They  have  bound  him  and  taken  him  to  Notting 
ham  Town,  and  ere  I  left  the  Blue  Boar  I  heard  that  he  should  be  hanged  to 
morrow  day." 

"  He  shall  not  be  hanged  to-morrow  day,"  cried  Robin  ;  or,  if  he  be,  full 
many  a  one  shall  gnaw  the  sod,  and  many  shall  have  cause  to  cry  Alack-a- 
day  ! " 

Then  he  clapped  his  horn  to  his  lips  and  blew  three  blasts  right  loudly,  and 
presently  his  good  yeomen  came  running  through  the  greenwood  Robin  Hood  call- 
until  sevenscore  bold  blades  were  gathered  around  him.  eth  his  merry 

,       ,  ,,     ,,         •     ••    T-»    i  •  f^  men  about  him. 

"Now  hark  you  all!  cried  Robin.  "Our  dear  companion, 
Will  Stutely,  hath  been  taken  by  that  vile  Sheriff's  men,  therefore  doth  it  be 
hoove  us  to  take  bow  and  brand  in  hand  to  bring  him  off  again  ;  for  I  wot 
that  we  ought  to  risk  life  and  limb  for  him,  as  he  hath  risked  life  and  limb  for 
us.  Is  it  not  so,  my  merry  men  all  ?  "  Then  all  cried,  "  Ay !  "  with  a  great 
voice. 

"  Now,"  quoth  Robin  again,  "  if  there  be  any  here  that  care  not  to  risk  life 
and  limb,  let  them  bide  within  Sherwood  shades,  for  I  constrain  no  man  to  my 
will  ;  but  to-morrow  I  will  bring  Will  Stutely  back  or  I  will  die  with  him." 

Then  up  spake  stout  Little  John.  "  Thinkest  thou,  good  master,"  he  said, 
"  that  there  be  one  among  us  all  that  would  not  risk  life  and  limb  for  fellow  in 
trouble  ?  If  such  there  be,  then  do  not  I  know  every  man  in  this  company  of 
stout  yeomen.  And,  moreover,  if  there  be  such,  I  wot  he  should  be  stripped 
and  beaten  from  out  our  merry  woodlands.  Is  it  not  so,  good  friends  ? " 

Then  all  cried,  "  Ay ! "  again,  for  there  was  not  one  man  amongst  them  all 
that  would  not  venture  everything  for  a  friend  in  need. 

So  the  next  day  they  all  wended  their  way  from  Sherwood  Forest,  but  by 
different  paths,  for  it  behooved  them  to  be  very  crafty  ;  so  the  band  separated 
into  parties  of  twos  and  threes,  which  were  all  to  meet  again  in  a  tangled  dell 
that  lay  near  to  Nottingham  Town.  Then,  when  they  had  all  gathered  together 
at  the  place  of  meeting,  Robin  spoke  to  them  thus  :  — 


38      WILL  STUTELY  RESCUED  BY  HIS   GOOD   COMPANIONS. 

"  Now  we  will  lie  here  in  ambush  until  we  can  get  news,  for  it  doth  behoove 
us  to  be  cunning  and  wary  if  we  would  bring  our  friend,  Will 

Robin  and  his  ./ 

men  come  to  Not-  Stutely,  on  from  the  Sheriff  s  clutches. 

%$*£*/*%?£+  So  they  lay  hidden  a  long  time,  until  the  sun  stood  high  in  the 
bush  till  that  they  sky.  The  day  was  warm  and  the  dusty  road  was  bare  of  travel 
lers,  except  an  aged  palmer  who  walked  slowly  along  the  high 
road  that  led  close  beside  the  gray  castle  wall  of  Nottingham  Town.  When 
Robin  saw  that  no  other  wayfarer  was  within  sight,  he  called  young  David  of 
Doncaster,  who  was  a  shrewd  man  for  his  years,  and  said  to  him,  "  Now  get 
thee  forth,  young  David,  and  speak  to  yonder  palmer  that  walks  beside  the 
town  wall,  for  he  hath  come  but  now  from  Nottingham  Town,  and  may  tell  thee 
news  of  good  Stutely,  perchance." 

So  David  strode  forth,  and  when  he  came  up  to  the  pilgrim,  he  saluted  him 
and  said :  "  Good  morrow,  holy  father,  and  canst  thou  tell  me  when  Will 
Stutely  will  be  hanged  upon  the  gallows  tree  ?  I  fain  would  not  miss  the  sight, 
for  I  have  come  from  afar  to  see  so  sturdy  a  rogue  hanged." 

"  Now,  out  upon  thee,  young  man,"  cried  the  Palmer,  "  that  thou  shouldst 
speak  so  when  a  good  stout  man  is  to  be  hanged  for  nothing  but  guarding  his 
own  life  ! "  and  he  struck  his  staff  upon  the  ground  in  anger.  "  Alas,  say  I, 
that  this  thing  should  be !  for  even  this  day,  toward  evening,  when  the  sun 
falleth  low,  he  shall  be  hanged,  fourscore  rods  from  the  great  town  gate  of  Not 
tingham,  where  three  roads  meet ;  for  there  the  Sheriff  sweareth  he  shall  die 
as  a  warning  to  all  outlaws  in  Nottinghamshire.  But  yet,  I  say  again,  Alas ! 
for,  though  Robin  Hood  and  his  band  may  be  outlaws,  yet  he  taketh  only  from 
the  rich  and  the  strong  and  the  dishonest  man,  while  there  is  not  a  poor  widow 
nor  a  peasant  with  many  children,  nigh  to  Sherwood,  but  has  barley-flour 
enough  all  the  year  long  through  him.  It  grieves  my  heart  to  see  one  as  gal 
lant  as  this  Stutely  die,  for  I  have  been  a  good  Saxon  yeoman  in  my  day,  ere  I 
turned  palmer,  and  well  I  know  a  stout  hand  and  one  that  smiteth  shrewdly  at 
a  cruel  Norman  or  a  proud  abbot  with  fat  money-bags.  Had  good  Stutely's 
master  but  known  how  his  man  was  compassed  about  with  perils,  perchance  he 
might  send  succor  to  bring  him  out  of  the  hand  of  his  enemies." 

"  Ay,  marry,  that  is  true,"  cried  the  young  man.  "  If  Robin  and  his  men  be 
nigh  this  place,  I  wot  right  well  they  will  strive  to  bring  him  forth  from  his 
peril.  But  fare  thee  well,  thou  good  old  man,  and  believe  me,  that,  if  Will 
Stutely  die,  he  shall  be  right  well  avenged." 

Then  he  turned  and  strode  rapidly  away  ;  but  the  Palmer  looked  after  him, 
muttering,  "  I  wot  that  youth  is  no  country  hind  that  hath  come  to  see  a  good 
man  die.  Well,  well,  perchance  Robin  Hood  is  not  so  far  away  but  that  there 
will  be  stout  doings  this  day."  So  he  went  upon  his  way,  muttering  to  him 
self. 


WILL   STUTELY  RESCUED  BY  HIS   GOOD   COMPANIONS.      41 

When  David  of  Doncaster  told  Robin  Hood  what  the  Palmer  had  said  to 
him,  Robin  called  the  band  around  him  and  spoke  to  them  thus  :     David  of  Don- 

"  Now  let  us  get  straightway  into  Nottingham  Town,  and  mix    caster  brings 
ourselves  with  the  people  there  ;  but  keep  ye  one  another  in  sight,    stutely 


pressing  as  near  the  prisoner  and  his  guards  as  ye  can,  when    *"**'  Hood* 
they  come  outside  the  walls.     Strike  no  man  without  need,  for  I  would  fain 
avoid  bloodshed,  but  if  ye  do  strike,  strike  hard,  and  see  that  there  be  no  need 
to  strike  again.     Then  keep  all  together  until  we  come  again  to  Sherwood,  and 
let  no  man  leave  his  fellows." 

The  sun  was  low  in  the  western  sky  when  a  bugle-note  sounded  from  the  cas 
tle  wall.  Then  all  was  bustle  in  Nottingham  Town  and  crowds  filled  the  streets, 
for  all  knew  that  the  famous  Will  Stutely  was  to  be  hanged  that  day.  Pres 
ently  the  castle  gates  opened  wide  and  a  great  array  of  men-at-arms  came  forth 
with  noise  and  clatter,  the  Sheriff,  all  clad  in  shining  mail  of  linked  chain,  rid 
ing  at  their  head.  In  the  midst  of  all  the  guard,  in  a  cart,  with  a  halter  about 
his  neck,  rode  Will  Stutely.  His  face  was  pale  with  his  wound  and  with  loss 
of  blood,  like  the  moon  in  broad  daylight,  and  his  fair  hair  was  clotted  in  points 
upon  his  forehead,  where  the  blood  had  hardened.  When  he  came  forth  from 
the  castle  he  looked  up  and  he  looked  down,  but  though  he  saw  some  faces  that 
showed  pity  and  some  that  showed  friendliness,  he  saw  none  that  he  knew. 
Then  his  heart  sank  within  him  like  a  plummet  of  lead,  but  nevertheless  he 
spoke  up  boldly. 

"  Give  a   sword   into   my   hand,    Sir   Sheriff,"  said  he,  "  and    WM  stutely 
wounded  man  though  I  be,  I  will  fight  thee  and  all  thy  men  till    a*]?eth.lh? 

J  Sheriff  for  a 

life  and  strength  be  gone."  sword  to  fight 

"  Nay,  thou  naughty  varlet,"  quoth  the  Sheriff,  turning  his  head    ™he  sheriff  will 
and  looking  right  grimly  upon  Will  Stutely,  "thou  shalt  have  no    not  give  him. 
sword  but  shall  die  a  mean  death,  as  beseemeth  a  vile  thief  like  thee." 

"  Then  do  but  untie  my  hands  and  I  will  fight  thee  and  thy  men  with  no 
weapon  but  only  my  naked  fists.  I  crave  no  weapon,  but  let  me  not  be  meanly 
hanged  this  day." 

Then  the  Sheriff  laughed  aloud.  "  Why,  how  now,"  quoth  he,  "  is  thy  proud 
stomach  quailing  ?  Shrive  thyself,  thou  vile  knave,  for  I  mean  that  thou  shalt 
hang  this  day,  and  that  where  three  roads  meet,  so  that  all  men  shall  see  thee 
hang,  for  carrion  crows  and  daws  to  peck  at." 

"  O   thou  dastard  heart  !  "   cried  Will   Stutely,  gnashing  his  teeth  at  the 
Sheriff.     "Thou   coward  hind!     If  ever  my  good  master  meet    wm  stutely 
thee  thou  shalt  pay  dearly  for  this  day's  work  !     He  doth  scorn    ratiethatthe 
thee,  and  so  do  all  brave  hearts.     Knowest  thou  not  that  thou 
and  thy  name  are  jests  upon  the  lips  of  every  brave  yeoman  ?     Such  a  one 


42      WILL  STUTELY  RESCUED  BY  HIS   GOOD   COMPANIONS. 

as  thou  art,  thou  wretched  craven,  will  never  be  able  to  subdue  bold  Robin 
Hood." 

"Ha  !  "  cried  the  Sheriff,  in  a  rage,  "is  it  even  so  ?  Am  I  a  jest  with  thy 
master,  as  thou  callest  him  ?  Now  I  will  make  a  jest  of  thee  and  a  sorry  jest 
withal,  for  I  will  quarter  thee  limb  from  limb,  after  thou  art  hanged."  Then  he 
spurred  his  horse  forward,  and  said  no  more  to  Stutely. 

At  last  they  came  to  the  great  town  gate,  through  which  Stutely  saw  the  fair 
country  beyond,  with  hills  and  dales  all  clothed  in  verdure,  and  far  away  the 
dusky  line  of  Sherwood's  skirts.  Then  when  he  saw  the  slanting  sunlight  lying 
on  field  and  fallow,  shining  redly  here  and  there  on  cot  and  farmhouse,  and 
when  he  heard  the  sweet  birds  singing  their  vespers,  and  the  sheep  bleating 
upon  the  hillside,  and  beheld  the  swallows  flying  in  the  bright  air,  there  came 
a  great  fulness  to  his  heart  so  that  all  things  blurred  to  his  sight  through  salt 
tears,  and  he  bowed  his  head  lest  the  folk  should  think  him  unmanly  when  they 
saw  the  tears  in  his  eyes.  Thus  he  kept  his  head  bowed  till  they  had  passed 
through  the  gate  and  were  outside  the  walls  of  the  town.  But  when  he  looked 
up  again  he  felt  his  heart  leap  within  him  and  then  stand  still  for  pure  joy,  for 
he  saw  the  face  of  one  of  his  own  dear  companions  of  merry  Sherwood  ;  then 
glancing  quickly  around  he  saw  well-known  faces  upon  all  sides  of  him,  crowd 
ing  closely  upon  the  men-at-arms  who  were  guarding  him.  Then  of  a  sudden 
the  blood  sprang  to  his  cheeks,  for  he  saw  for  a  moment  his  own  good  master 
in  the  press,  and,  seeing  him,  knew  that  Robin  Hood  and  all  his  band  were 
there.  Yet  betwixt  him  and  them  was  a  line  of  men-at-arms. 

"  Now,  stand  back  !  "  cried  the  Sheriff  in  a  mighty  voice,  for  the  crowd  pressed 
around  on  all  sides.  "  What  mean  ye,  varlets,  that  ye  push  upon  us  so  ?  Stand 
back,  I  say  ! " 

Then  came  a  bustle  and  a  noise,  and  one  strove  to  push  between  the  men-at- 
Littiejohn  com-  arms  so  as  to  reach  the  cart,  and  Stutely  saw  that  it  was  Little 
eth  to  the  rescue  John  that  made  all  that  stir. 

"  Now  stand  thou  back ! "  cried  one  of  the  men-at-arms  whom 
Little  John  pushed  with  his  elbows. 

"  Now  stand  thou  back  thine  own  self,"  quoth  Little  John,  and  straightway 
smote  the  man  a  buffet  beside  his  head  that  felled  him  as  a  butcher  fells  an  ox, 
and  then  he  leaped  to  the  cart  where  Stutely  sat. 

"  I  pray  thee  take  leave  of  thy  friends  ere  thou  diest,  Will,"  quoth  he,  "  or 
maybe  I  will  die  with  thee  if  thou  must  die,  for  I  could  never  have  better  com 
pany."  Then  with  one  stroke  he  cut  the  bonds  that  bound  the  other's  arms 
and  legs,  and  Stutely  leaped  straightway  from  the  cart. 

"  Now  as  I  live,"  cried  the  Sheriff,  "  yon  varlet  I  know  right  well  is  a  sturdy 
rebel  1  Take  him,  I  bid  you  all,  and  let  him  not  go  !  " 


WILL  STUTELY  RESCUED  BY  HIS   GOOD   COMPANIONS.      43 

So  saying  he  spurred  his  horse  upon  Little  John,  and  rising  in  his  stirrups 
smote  with  might  and  main,  but  Little  John  ducked  quickly  underneath  the 
horse's  belly  and  the  blow  whistled  harmlessly  over  his  head. 

"Nay,  good  Sir  Sheriff,"  cried  he,  leaping  up  again  when  the  blow  had  passed, 
"  I  must  e'en  borrow  thy  most  worshipful  sword."  Thereupon  he  twitched  the 
weapon  deftly  from  out  the  Sheriff's  hand.  "Here,  Stutely,"  he  cried,  "the 
Sheriff  hath  lent  thee  his  sword  !  Back  to  back  with  me,  man,  and  defend  thy 
self,  for  help  is  nigh  !  " 

"  Down  with  them !  "  bellowed  the  Sheriff  in  a  voice  like  an  angry  bull ;  and 
he  spurred  his  horse  upon  the  two  who  now  stood  back  to  back,  forgetting  in 
his  rage  that  he  had  no  weapon  with  which  to  defend  himself. 

"  Stand  back,  Sheriff  !  "  cried  Little  John  ;  and  even  as  he  spoke,  a  bugle- 
horn  sounded  shrilly,  and  a  clothyard  shaft  whistled  within  an    Robin  Hood  and 
inch  of   the  Sheriff's  head.     Then  there  came  a  swaying  hither   Jj£5j3£ 
and  thither  and  oaths  and  cries  and  groans  and  clashing  of  steel,    iff'*  men. 
and  swords  flashed  in  the  setting  sun,  and  a  score  of  arrows  whistled  through 
the  air  :  and  some  cried  "  Help,  help  !  "  and  some,  "  A  rescue,  a  rescue  !  " 

"  Treason  !  "  cried  the  Sheriff  in  a  loud  voice.  "  Bear  back  !  bear  back  !  else 
we  be  all  dead  men  !  "  Thereupon  he  reined  his  horse  backward  through  the 
thickest  of  the  crowd. 

Now  Robin  Hood  and  his  band  might  have  slain  half  of  the  Sheriff's  men 
had  they  desired  to  do  so,  but  they  let  them  push  out  of  the  press  and  get  them 
gone,  only  sending  a  bunch  of  arrows  after  them  to  hurry  them  in  their  flight. 

"  Oh  stay  !  "  shouted  Will  Stutely  after  the  Sheriff.  "  Thou  wilt  never  catch 
bold  Robin  Hood  if  thou  dost  not  stand  to  meet  him  face  to  face."  But  the 
Sheriff,  bowing  along  his  horse's  back,  made  no  answer  but  only  spurred  the 
faster. 

Then  Will  Stutely  turned  to  Little  John  and  looked  him  in  the  face  till  the 
tears  ran  down  from  his  eyes  and  he  wept  aloud,  and  kissing  his  friend's  cheeks, 
"  O  Little  John ! "  quoth  he,  "  mine  own  true  friend,  and  he  that  I  love  better 
than  man  or  woman  in  all  the  world  beside !  Little  did  I  reckon  to  see  thy 
face  this  day,  or  to  meet  thee  this  side  Paradise."  And  Little  John  could  make 
no  answer,  but  wept  also. 

Then  Robin  Hood  gathered  his  band  together  in  a  close  rank,  with  Will 
Stutely  in  the  midst,  and  thus  they  moved  slowly  away  toward  Sherwood,  and 
were  gone,  as  a  storm-cloud  moves  away  from  the  spot  where  a  tempest  has 
swept  the  land.  But  they  left  ten  of  the  Sheriff's  men  lying  along  the  ground 
wounded  —  some  more,  some  less  —  yet  no  one  knew  who  smote  them  down. 

Thus  the  Sheriff  of  Nottingham  tried  thrice  to  take  Robin  Hood  and  failed 
each  time  ;  and  the  last  time  he  was  frightened,  for  he  felt  how  near  he  had 


44 


WILL  STUTELY  RESCUED  BY  HIS   GOOD   COMPANIONS. 


come  to  losing  his  life  ;  so  he  said :  "  These  men  fear  neither  God  nor  man, 
nor  King  nor  king's  officers.  I  would  sooner  lose  mine  office  than  my  life,  so  I 
will  trouble  them  no  more."  So  he  kept  close  within  his  castle  for  many  a  day 
and  dared  not  show  his  face  outside  of  his  own  household,  and  all  the  time  he 
was  gloomy  and  would  speak  to  no  one,  for  he  was  ashamed  of  what  had  hap 
pened  that  day. 


Robin- turns- butcher-and- 
jells-his-meat.in-Nottingham; 

W          ^  ^       •  .^  ^»  VJ  ^i 


PART  SECOND. 

In  which  shall  be  told  how  Robin  Hood  turned  Butcher,  and  how  he 
revenged  himself  upon  the  Sheriff.  Also,  of  the  famous  adventures 
that  befel  Little  John  at  the  Nottingham  Archery  Match,  and  how 
he  entered  the  Sheriff's  service. 

'    j  -.,:-.    -     :    •:  ,          : 

Robin   Hood  turns   Butcher. 

OW  after  all  these  things  had  happened,  and  it  became 
known  to  Robin  Hood  how  the  Sheriff  had  tried  three 
times  to  make  him  captive,  he  said  to  himself  :  "  If  I  have 
the  chance,  I  will  make  our  worshipful  Sheriff  pay  right 
well  for  that  which  he  hath  done  to  me.  Maybe  I  may 
bring  him  some  time  into  Sherwood  Forest,  and  have  him 
to  a  right  merry  feast  with  us."  For  when  Robin  Hood 
caught  a  baron  or  a  squire,  or  a  fat  abbot  or  bishop,  he 

brought  them  to  the  greenwood  tree  and  feasted  them  before  he  lightened  their 

purses. 

But  in  the  mean  time  Robin  Hood  and  his  band  lived  quietly  in  Sherwood 

Forest,  without  showing  their  faces  abroad,  for  Robin  knew  that    ffffw  Rgbin  and 

it  would  not  be  wise  for  him  to  be  seen  in  the  neighborhood  of    his  Band  dwelt 

.  ,  -P,          -within     Sher- 

Nottingham,  those  in  authority  being  very  wroth  with  him.      But    W0od  Forest  for 
though  they  did  not  go  abroad,  they  lived  a  merry  life  within  the    ayear- 
woodlands,  spending  the  days  in  shooting  at  garlands  hung  upon  a  willow  wand 
at  the  end  of  the  glade,  the  leafy  aisles  ringing  with  merry  jests  and  laughter : 


48  ROBIN  HOOD   TURNS  BUTCHER. 

for  whoever  missed  the  garland  was  given  a  sound  buffet,  which,  if  delivered 
by  Little  John,  never  failed  to  topple  over  the  unfortunate  yeoman.  Then 
they  had  bouts  of  wrestling  and  of  cudgel  play,  so  that  every  day  they  gained 
in  skill  and  strength. 

Thus  they  dwelt  for  nearly  a  year,  and  in  that  time  Robin  Hood  often  turned 

h    over  in  his  mind  many  means  of  making  an  even  score  with  the 

forth    to    seek    Sheriff.     At  last  he  began  to  fret  at  his  confinement  :  so  one  dav 

d          *  TT 

he  took  UP  his  stout  cudgel  and  set  forth  to  seek  adventure,  stroll 


er  and  buyeth  mg  blithely  along  until  he  came  to  the  edge  of  Sherwood.  There, 
as  he  rambled  along  the  sunlit  road,  he  met  a  lusty  young  Butcher 
driving  a  fine  mare,  and  riding  in  a  stout  new  cart,  all  hung  about  with  meat. 
Merrily  whistled  the  Butcher  as  he  jogged  along,  for  he  was  going  to  the  mar 
ket,  and  the  day  was  fresh  and  sweet,  making  his  heart  blithe  within  him. 

"  Good  morrow  to  thee,  jolly  fellow,"  quoth  Robin  ;  "  thou  seemest  happy 
this  merry  morn." 

"Ay,  that  am  I,"  quoth  the  jolly  Butcher  ;  "  and  why  should  I  not  be  so? 
Am  I  not  hale  in  wind  and  limb  ?  Have  I  not  the  bonniest  lass  in  all  Notting 
hamshire  ?  And  lastly,  am  I  not  to  be  married  to  her  on  Thursday  next  in 
sweet  Locksley  Town  ?  " 

"  Ha,"  said  Robin,  "  comest  thou  from  Locksley  Town  ?  Well  do  I  know 
that  fair  place  for  miles  about,  and  well  do  I  know  each  hedgerow  and  gentle 
pebbly  stream,  and  even  all  the  bright  little  fishes  therein,  for  there  I  was  born 
and  bred.  Now,  where  goest  thou  with  thy  meat,  my  fair  friend  ?  " 

"  I  go  to  the  market  at  Nottingham  Town  to  sell  my  beef  and  my  mutton," 
answered  the  Butcher.  "  But  who  art  thou  that  comest  from  Locksley  Town  ?  " 

"A  yeoman  am  I,  good  friend,  and  men  do  call  me  Robin  Hood." 

"  Now,  by  Our  Lady's  grace,"  cried  the  Butcher,  "  well  do  I  know  thy  name, 
and  many  a  time  have  I  heard  thy  deeds  both  sung  and  spoken  of.  But  Heaven 
forbid  that  thou  shouldst  take  ought  of  me  !  An  honest  man  am  I,  and  have 
wronged  neither  man  nor  maid  ;  so  trouble  me  not,  good  master,  as  I  have 
never  troubled  thee." 

"  Nay,  Heaven  forbid,  indeed,"  quoth  Robin,  "  that  I  should  take  from  such 
as  thee,  jolly  fellow  !  Not  so  much  as  one  farthing  would  I  take  from  thee,  for 
I  love  a  fair  Saxon  face  like  thine  right  well  ;  more  especially  when  it  cometh 
from  Locksley  Town,  and  most  especially  when  the  man  that  owneth  it  is  to 
marry  a  bonny  lass  on  Thursday  next.  But  come,  tell  me  for  what  price  thou 
wilt  sell  all  thy  meat  and  thy  horse  and  cart." 

"  At  four  marks  do  I  value  meat,  cart,  and  mare,"  quoth  the  Butcher  ;  "  but 
if  I  do  not  sell  all  my  meat  I  will  not  have  four  marks  in  value." 

Then  Robin  Hood  plucked  the  purse  from  his  girdle,  and  quoth  he,  "  Here 


ROBIN  HOOD   TURNS  BUTCHER.  49 

in  this  purse  are  six  marks.  Now,  I  would  fain  be  a  butcher  for  the  day  and 
sell  my  meat  in  Nottingham  Town,  wilt  thou  close  a  bargain  with  me  and  take 
six  marks  for  thine  outfit  ?  " 

"  Now  may  the  blessings  of  all  the  saints  fall  on  thine  honest  head  !  "  cried 
the  Butcher  right  joyfully,  as  he  leaped  down  from  his  cart  and  took  the  purse 
that  Robin  held  out  to  him. 

"  Nay,"  quoth  Robin,  laughing  loudly,  "  many  do  like  me  and  wish  me  well, 
but  few  call  me  honest.  Now  get  thee  gone  back  to  thy  lass,  and  give  her  a 
sweet  kiss  from  me."  So  saying,  he  donned  the  Butcher's  apron,  and,  climb 
ing  into  the  cart,  he  took  the  reins  in  his  hand,  and  drove  off  through  the  for 
est  to  Nottingham  Town. 

When  he  came  to  Nottingham,  he  entered  that  part  of  the  market  where 
butchers  stood,  and  took  up  his  inn  l  in  the  best  place  he  could    Robin  selleth  his 
find.     Next,  he  opened  his  stall  and  spread  his  meat  upon  the    meat  in  Notting- 
bench,  then,  taking  his  cleaver  and  steel  and  clattering  them  to 
gether,  he  trolled  aloud,  in  merry  tones  :  — 

"  Now  come,  ye  lasses,  and  eke,  ye  dames, 

And  buy  your  meat  from  me  ; 
For  three  pennyworths  of  meat  I  sell 
For  the  charge  of  one  penny. 

"  Lamb  have  I  that  hath  fed  upon  nought 

But  the  dainty  daisies  pied, 
And  the  violet  sweet,  and  the  daffodil 
That  grow  fair  streams  beside. 

"  And  beef  have  I  from  the  heathery  wolds, 

And  mutton  from  dales  all  green, 
And  veal  as  white  as  a  maiden's  brow, 
With  its  mother's  milk,  I  ween. 

"  Then  come,  ye  lasses,  and  eke,  ye  dames, 

Come,  buy  your  meat  from  me; 
For  three  pennyworths  of  meat  I  sell 
the  charge  of  one  penny." 


Thus  he  sang  blithely,  while  all  who  stood  near  listened  amazedly  ;  then, 
when  he  had  finished,  he  clattered  the  steel  and  cleaver  still  more  loudly,  shout 
ing  lustily,  "  Now,  who'll  buy?  who'll  buy?  Four  fixed  prices  have  I.  Three 
pennyworths  of  meat  I  sell  to  a  fat  friar  or  priest  for  sixpence,  for  I  want  not 
their  custom  ;  stout  aldermen  I  charge  threepence,  for  it  doth  not  matter  to  me 

A  *  Stand  for  selling. 


50  ROBIN  HOOD   TURNS  BUTCHER. 

whether  they  buy  or  not ;  to  buxom  dames  I  sell  three  pennyworths  of  meat  for 
one  penny,  for  I  like  their  custom  well ;  but  to  the  bonny  lass  that  hath  a  liking 
for  a  good  tight  butcher  I  charge  nought  but  one  fair  kiss,  for  I  like  her  custom 

the  best  of  all." 

Then  all  began  to  stare  and  wonder,  and  crowd  around,  laughing,  for  never 
was  such  selling  heard  of  in  all  Nottingham  Town  ;  but  when  they  came  to 
buy  they  found  it  as  he  had  said,  for  he  gave  good  wife  or  dame  as  much 
meat  for  one  penny  as  they  could  buy  elsewhere  for  three,  and  when  a  widow 
or  a  poor  woman  came  to  him,  he  gave  her  flesh  for  nothing ;  but  when  a  merry 
lass  came  and  gave  him  a  kiss,  he  charged  not  one  penny  for  his  meat  ;  and 
many  such  came  to  his  stall,  for  his  eyes  were  as  blue  as  the  skies  of  June,  and 
he  laughed  merrily,  giving  to  each  full  measure.  Thus  he  sold  his  meat  so 
fast  that  no  butcher  that  stood  near  him  could  sell  anything. 

Then  they  began  to  talk  among  themselves,  and  some  said,  "  This  must  be 
Thebutchersdo  some  thief  who  has  stolen  cart,  horse,  and  meat;"  but  others 
talk  of  Robin  ^^  "Nay,  when  did  ye  ever  see  a  thief  who  parted  with  his 
ttumZOZ?  goods  so  freely  and  merrily  ?  This  must  be  some  prodigal  who 
hath  sold  his  father's  land,  and  would  fain  live  merrily  while  the  money  lasts." 
And  these  latter  being  the  greater  number,  the  others  came  round,  one  by 
one,  to  their  way  of  thinking. 

Then  some  of  the  butchers  came  to  him  to  make  his  acquaintance.  "  Come, 
brother  "  quoth  one  who  was  the  head  of  them  all,  "  we  be  all  of 
S«1f£r*'  one  trade,  so  wilt  thou  go  dine  with  us  ?  For  this  day  the  Sheriff 
•with  them  at  the  fath  asked  all  the  Butcher  Guild  to  feast  with  him  at  the  Guild 
Sfjf^&  Hall.  There  will  be  stout  fare  and  much  to  drink,  and  that  thou 
them'  likest,  or  I  much  mistake  thee." 

"Now,  beshrewhis  heart,"  quoth  jolly  Robin,  «  that  would  deny  a  butcher. 
And,  moreover,  I  will  go  dine  with  you  all,  my  sweet  lads,  and  that  as  fast  as 
I  can  hie."  Whereupon,  having  sold  all  his  meat,  he  closed  his  stall,  and  went 
with  them  to  the  great  Guild  Hall. 

There  the  Sheriff  had  already  come  in  state,  and  with  him  many  butchers. 
When  Robin  and  those  that  were  with  him  came  in,  all  laughing  at  some  merry 
jest  he  had  been  telling  them,  those  that  were  near  the  Sheriff  whispered  to 
him,  «  Yon  is  a  right  mad  blade,  for  he  hath  sold  more  meat  for  one  penny  this 
day  than  we  could  sell  for  three,  and  to  whatsoever  merry  lass  gave  him  a  kiss 
he  gave  meat  for  nought."  And  others  said,  "  He  is  some  prodigal  that  hath 
sold  his  land  for  silver  and  gold,  and  meaneth  to  spend  all  right  merrily." 

Then  the  Sheriff  called  Robin  to  him,  not  knowing  him  in  his  butcher 
The  Sheriff  mak-  dress,  and  made  him  sit  close  to  him  on  his  right  hand;  for  he 
£Rob?n'C/l  °f        loved  a  rich  young  prodigal  —  especially  when  he  thought  that  he 


ROBIN  HOOD    TURNS  BUTCHER.  5! 

might  lighten  that  prodigal's  pockets  into  his  own  most  worshipful  purse.  So 
he  made  much  of  Robin,  and  laughed  and  talked  with  him  more  than  with  any 
of  the  others. 

At  last  the  dinner  was  ready  to  be  served  and  the  Sheriff  bade  Robin  say 
grace,  so  Robin  stood  up  and  said  :  "  Now  Heaven  bless  us  all  and  eke  good 
meat  and  good  sack  within  this  house,  and  may  all  butchers  be  and  remain  as 
honest  men  as  I  am." 

At  this  all  laughed,  the  Sheriff  loudest  of  all,  for  he  said  to  himself,  "  Surely 
this  is  indeed  some  prodigal,  and  perchance  I  may  empty  his  purse  of  some  of 
the  money  that  the  fool  throweth  about  so  freely."  Then  he  spake  aloud  to 
Robin,  saying  :  "  Thou  art  a  jolly  young  blade,  and  I  love  thee  mightily ; " 
and  he  smote  Robin  upon  the  shoulder. 

Then  Robin  laughed  loudly  too.  "  Yea,"  quoth  he,  "  I  know  thou  dost  love  a 
jolly  blade,  for  didst  thou  not  have  jolly  Robin  Hood  at  thy  shooting-match  and 
didst  thou  not  gladly  give  him  a  bright  golden  arrow  for  his  own  ?" 

At  this  the  Sheriff  looked  grave  and  all  the  guild  of  butchers  too,  so  that 
none  laughed  but  Robin,  only  some  winked  slyly  at  each  other. 

"  Come,  fill  us  some  sack  !  "  cried  Robin.  "  Let  us  e'er  be  merry  while  we 
may,  for  man  is  but  dust,  and  he  hath  but  a  span  to  live  here  till  the  worm  get- 
teth  him,  as  our  good  gossip  Swanthold  sayeth  ;  so  let  life  be  merry  while  it 
lasts,  say  I.  Nay,  never  look  down  i'  the  mouth,  Sir  Sheriff.  Who  knowest 
but  that  thou  mayest  catch  Robin  Hood  yet  if  thou  drinkest  less  good  sack  and 
Malmsey,  and  bringest  down  the  fat  about  thy  paunch  and  the  dust  from  out 
thy  brain.  Be  merry,  man." 

Then  the  Sheriff  laughed  again,  but  not  as  though  he  liked  the  jest,  while  the 
butchers  said,  one  to  another,  "  Before  Heaven,  never  have  we  seen  such  a  mad 
rollicking  blade.  Mayhap,  though,  he  will  make  the  Sheriff  mad." 

"How  now,  brothers,"  cried  Robin,  "be  merry  !  nay,  never  count  over  your 
farthings,  for  by  this  and  by  that  I  will  pay  this  shot  myself,  e'en  though  it  cost 
two  hundred  pounds.  So  let  no  man  draw  up  his  lip,  nor  thrust  his  forefinger 
into  his  purse,  for  I  swear  that  neither  butcher  nor  Sheriff  shall  pay  one  penny 
for  this  feast." 

"  Now  thou  art  a  right  merry  soul,"  quoth  the  Sheriff,  "  and  I  wot  thou  must 
have  many  a  head  of  horned  beasts  and  many  an  acre  of  land,  that  thou  dost 
spend  thy  money  so  freely." 

"  Ay,  that  have  I,"  quoth  Robin,  laughing  loudly  again,  "  five  hundred  and 
more  horned  beasts  have  I  and  my  brothers,  and  none  of  them  have  we  been 
able  to  sell,  else  I  might  not  have  turned  butcher.  As  for  my  land,  I  have 
never  asked  my  steward  how  many  acres  I  have." 

At  this  the  Sheriff's  eyes  twinkled,  and  he  chuckled  to  himself.     "  Nay,  good 


52  ROBIN  HOOD   TURNS  BUTCHER. 

youth,"  quoth  he,  "  if  thou  canst  not  sell  thy  cattle  it  may  be  I  will  find  a  man 
that  will  lift  them  from  thy  hands  ;  perhaps  that  man  may  be  myself,  for  I  love 
a  merry  youth  and  would  help  such  a  one  along  the  path  of  life.  Now  how 
much  dost  thou  want  for  thy  horned  cattle  ? " 

"  Well,"  quoth  Robin,  "  they  are  worth  at  least  five  hundred  pounds." 
Robin  bargain-          "  Nay,"  answered  the  Sheriff,  slowly,  and  as  if  he  were  thinking 
eth  to  sell  five       within  himself  ;  "well  do  I  love  thee,  and  fain  would  I  help  thee 

hundred  horned       .  i      .    £         i         j      j  j      •  •  •>  , 

beasts  to  the  along,  but  five  hundred  pounds  in  money  is  a  good  round  sum  ; 
Sheriff.  beside  I  have  it  not  by  me.  Yet  I  will  give  thee  three  hundred 

pounds  for  them  all,  and  that  in  good  hard  silver  and  gold." 

"  Now  thou  old  Jew  !  "  quoth  Robin  ;  "  well  thou  knowest  that  so  many 
horned  cattle  are  worth  seven  hundred  pounds  and  more,  and  even  that  is  but 
small  for  them,  and  yet  thou,  with  thy  gray  hairs  and  one  foot  in  the  grave, 
wouldst  trade  upon  the  folly  of  a  wild  youth." 

At  this  the  Sheriff  looked  grimly  at  Robin.  "  Nay,"  quoth  Robin,  "  look  not 
on  me  as  though  thou  hadst  sour  beer  in  thy  mouth,  man.  I  will  take  thine 
offer,  for  I  and  my  brothers  do  need  the  money.  We  lead  a  merry  life,  and  no 
one  leads  a  merry  life  for  a  farthing,  so  I  will  close  the  bargain  with  thee.  But 
mind  that  thou  bringest  a  good  three  hundred  pounds  with  thee,  for  I  trust  not 
one  that  driveth  so  shrewd  a  bargain." 

"  I  will  bring  the  money,"  said  the  Sheriff.  "  But  what  is  thy  name,  good 
youth  ?  " 

"  Men  call  me  Robert  o'  Locksley,''  quoth  bold  Robin. 

"  Then,  good  Robert  o'  Locksley,"  quoth  the  Sheriff,  "  I  will  come  this  day 
to  see  thy  horned  beasts.  But  first  my  clerk  shall  draw  up  a  paper  in  which 
thou  shalt  be  bound  to  the  sale,  for  thou  gettest  not  my  money  without  I  get 
thy  beasts  in  return."  . 

Then  Robin  Hood  laughed  again.  "  So  be  it,"  he  cried,  smiting  his  palm 
upon  the  Sheriff's  hand.  "  Truly  my  brothers  will  be  thankful  to  thee  for  thy 
money." 

Thus  the  bargain  was  closed  ;  but  many  of  the  butchers  talked  among  them 
selves  of  the  Sheriff,  saying  that  it  was  but  a  scurvy  trick  to  beguile  a  poor 
spendthrift  youth  in  this  way. 

The  afternoon  had  come  when  the  Sheriff  mounted  his  horse  and  joined 
The  Sheriff  Robin  Hood,  who  stood  outside  the  gateway  of  the  paved  court 
^Hoodtosefhis"  waiting  for  him,  for  he  had  sold  his  horse  and  cart  to  a  trader  for 
homed  beasts.  two  marks.  Then  they  set  forth  upon  their  way,  the  Sheriff  rid 
ing  upon  his  horse  and  Robin  running  beside  him.  Thus  they  left  Nottingham 
Town  and  travelled  forward  along  .the  dusty  highway,  laughing  and  jesting  to 
gether  as  though  they  had  been  old  friends  ;  but  all  the  time  the  Sheriff  said 


ROBIN  HOOD    TURNS  BUTCHER.  53 

within  himself,  "  Thy  jest  to  me  of  Robin  Hood  shall  cost  thee  dear,  good  fel 
low,  even  four  hundred  pounds,  thou  fool."  For  he  thought  he  would  make  at 
least  that  much  by  his  bargain. 

So  they  journeyed  onward  till  they  came  within  the  verge  of  Sherwood  For 
est,  when  presently  the  Sheriff  looked  up  and  down  and  to  the  right  and  to  the 
left  of  him  and  then  grew  quiet  and  ceased  his  laughter.  "  Now,"  quoth  he, 
"  may  Heaven  and  its  saints  preserve  us  this  day  from  a  rogue  men  call  Robin 
Hood." 

Then  Robin  laughed  aloud.  "  Nay,"  said  he,  "  thou  mayst  set  thy  mind  at 
rest,  for  well  do  I  know  Robin  Hood  and  well  do  I  know  that  thou  art  in  no 
more  danger  from  him  this  day  than  thou  art  from  me." 

At  this  the  Sheriff  looked  askance  at  Robin,  saying  to  himself,  "  I  like  not 
that  thou  seemest  so  well  acquainted  with  this  bold  outlaw,  and  I  wish  that  I 
were  well  out  of  Sherwood  Forest." 

But  still  they  travelled  deeper  into  the  forest  shades,  and  the  deeper  they  went 
the  more  quiet  grew  the  Sheriff.  At  last  they  came  to  where  the  road  took  a 
sudden  bend,  and  before  them  a  herd  of  dun  deer  went  tripping  across  the 
path.  Then  Robin  Hood  came  close  to  the  Sheriff  and  pointing  his  finger  he 
said,  "  These  are  my  horned  beasts,  good  Master  Sheriff.  How  dost  thou  like 
them  ?  Are  they  not  fat  and  fair  to  see  ?  " 

At  this  the  Sheriff  drew  rein  quickly.  "  Now  fellow,"  quoth  he,  "  I  would 
I  were  well  out  of  this  forest,  for  I  like  not  thy  company.  Go  thou  thine  own 
path,  good  friend,  and  let  me  but  go  mine." 

But  Robin  only  laughed  and  caught  the  Sheriff's  bridle  rein.  "  Nay,"  cried 
he,  "  stay  a  while,  for  I  would  thou  shouldst  see  my  brothers  who  own  these  fair 
horned  beasts  with  me."  So  saying  he  clapped  his  bugle  to  his  mouth  and 
winded  three  merry  notes,  and  presently  up  the  path  came  leaping  fivescore 
good  stout  yeomen  with  Little  John  at  their  head. 

"  What  wouldst  thou  have,  good  master  ? "  quoth  Little  John. 

"  Why,"  answered  Robin,  "  dost  thou  not  see  that  I  have  brought  goodly  com 
pany  to  feast  with  us  to-day  ?  Fye,  for  shame  !  do  you  not  see  our  good  and 
worshipful  master,  the  Sheriff  of  Nottingham  ?  Take  thou  his  bridle,  Little 
John,  for  he  has  honored  us  to-day  by  coming  to  feast  with  us." 

Then  all  doffed  their  hats  humbly,  without  smiling,  or  seeming  to  be  in  jest, 
whilst  Little  John  took  the  bridle  rein  and  led  the  palfrey  still  deeper  into  the 
forest,  all  marching  in  order,  with  Robin  Hood  walking  beside  the  Sheriff,  hat 
in  hand. 

All  this  time  the  Sheriff  said  never  a  word  but  only  looked  about  him  like 
one  suddenly  awakened  from  sleep  ;  but  when  he  found  himself  going  within 
the  very  depth  of  Sherwood  his  heart  sank  within  him,  for  he  thought,  "  Surely 


54  ROBIN  HOOD   TURNS  BUTCHER. 

my  three  hundred  pounds  will  be  taken  from  me,  even  if  they  take  not  my  life 
itself,  for  I  have  plotted  against  their  lives  more  than  once."  But  all  seemed 
humble  and  meek  and  not  a  word  was  said  of  danger,  either  to  life  or  money. 

So  at  last  they  came  to  that  part  of  Sherwood  Forest  where  a  noble  oak 
spread  its  branches  wide,  and  beneath  it  was  a  seat  all  made  of  moss,  on 
which  Robin  sat  down,  placing  the  Sheriff  at  his  right  hand.  "  Now  busk 
The  Sheriff  com-  ye,  my  merry  men  all,"  quoth  he,  "and  bring  forth  the  best  we 

too°dlreegan7is  have'  both  of  meat  and  wine/for  his  worship,  the  Sheriff,  hath 
feasted  there.  feasted  me  in  Nottingham  Guild  Hall  to-day,  and  I  would  not 
have  him  go  back  empty." 

All  this  time  nothing  had  been  said  of  the  Sheriff's  money,  so  presently  he 
began  to  pluck  up  heart ;  "  For,"  said  he  to  himself,  "  maybe  Robin  Hood  hath 
forgotten  all  about  it." 

Then,  whilst  beyond  in  the  forest  bright  fires  crackled  and  savory  smells  of 
sweetly  roasting  venison  and  fat  capons  filled  the  glade,  and  brown  pasties 
warmed  beside  the  blaze,  did  Robin  Hood  entertain  the  Sheriff  right  royally. 
They  play  games  First>  several  couples  stood  forth  at  quarters  taff,  and  so  shrewd 
before  the  Sher-  were  they  at  the  game,  and  so  quickly  did  they  give  stroke  and 
parry,  that  the  Sheriff,  who  loved  to  watch  all  lusty  sports  of  the 
kind,  clapped  his  hands,  forgetting  where  he  was,  and  crying  aloud,  "  Well 
struck  !  well  struck,  thou  fellow  with  the  black  beard  !  "  little  knowing  that 
the  man  he  called  upon  was  the  Tinker  that  tried  to  serve  his  warrant  upon 
Robin  Hood. 

Then  the  best  archers  of  the  band  set  up  a  fair  garland  of  flowers  at  eight- 
score  paces  distance,  and  shot  at  it  with  the  cunningest  archery  practice.  But 
the  Sheriff  grew  grave,  for  he  did  not  like  this  so  well,  the  famous  meeting  at 
the  butts  in  Nottingham  Town  being  still  green  in  his  memory,  and  the  golden 
arrow  that  had  been  won  there  hanging  close  behind  him.  Then,  when  Robin 
saw  what  was  in  the  Sheriff's  mind,  he  stopped  the  sport,  and  called  forth  some 
of  his  band,  who  sang  merry  ballads,  while  others  made  music  upon  the  harp. 

When  this  was  done,  several  yeomen  came  forward  and  spread  cloths  upon 
the  green  grass,  and  placed  a  royal  feast ;  while  others  still  broached  barrels  of 
sack  and  Malmsey  and  good  stout  ale,  and  set  them  in  jars  upon  the  cloth, 
The  Sheriff  with  drinking-horns  about  them.  Then  all  sat  down  and  feasted 
the  and  drank  merrily  together  until  the  sun  was  low  and  the  half- 
moon  glimmered  with  a  pale  light  betwixt  the  leaves  of  the  trees 
overhead. 

Then  the  Sheriff  arose  and  said,  "  I  thank  you  all,  good  yeomen,  for  the 
merry  entertainment  ye  have  given  me  this  day.  Right  courteously  have  ye 
used  me,  showing  therein  that  ye  have  much  respect  for  our  glorious  King  and 


ROBIN  HOOD    TURNS  BUTCHER.  55 

his  deputy  in  brave  Nottinghamshire.  But  the  shadows  grow  long,  and  I  must 
away  before  darkness  comes,  lest  I  lose  myself  within  the  forest." 

Then  Robin  Hood  and  all  his  merry  men  arose  also,  and  Robin  said  to  the 
Sheriff,  "  If  thou  must  go,  worshipful  sir,  go  thou  -must ;  but  thou  hast  forgot 
ten  one  thing." 

"  Nay,  I  forgot  nought,"  said  the  Sheriff  ;  yet  all  the  same  his  heart  sank 
within  him. 

"  But  I  say  thou  hast  forgot  something,"  quoth  Robin.  "  We  keep  a  merry 
inn  here  in  the  greenwood,  but  whoever  becometh  our  guest  must  pay  his 
reckoning." 

Then  the  Sheriff  laughed,  but  the  laugh  was  hollow.  "  Well,  jolly  boys," 
quoth  he,  "  we  have  had  a  merry  time  together  to-day,  and  even  if  ye  had  not 
asked  me,  I  would  have  given  you  a  score  of  pounds  for  the  sweet  entertain 
ment  I  have  had." 

"  Nay,"  quoth  Robin  seriously,  "  it  would  ill  beseem  us  to  treat  your  worship 
so  meanly.  By  my  faith,  Sir  Sheriff,  I  would  be  ashamed  to  show  my  face  if  I 
did  not  reckon  the  King's  deputy  at  three  hundred  pounds.  Is  it  not  so,  my 
merry  men  all  ? " 

Then  "  Ay  !  "  cried  all,  in  a  loud  voice. 

"Three  hundred  devils  !"  roared  the  Sheriff.  "Think  ye  that  your  beggarly 
feast  was  worth  three  pounds,  let  alone  three  hundred  ? " 

"  Nay,"  quoth  Robin,  gravely.  "  Speak  not  so  roundly,  your  worship.  I  do 
love  thee  for  the  sweet  feast  thou  hast  given  me  this  day  in  merry  Nottingham 
Town  ;  but  there  be  those  here  who  love  thee  not  so  much.  If  thou  wilt  look 
down  the  cloth  thou  wilt  see  Will  Stutely,  in  whose  eyes  thou  hast  no  great 
favor  ;  then  two  other  stout  fellows  are  there  here  that  thou  knowest  not,  that 
were  wounded  in  a  brawl  nigh  Nottingham  Town,  some  time  ago  —  thou  wot- 
test  when  ;  one  of  them  was  sore  hurt  in  one  arm,  yet  he  hath  got  the  use  of  it 
again.  Good  Sheriff,  be  advised  by  me  ;  pay  thy  score  without  more  ado,  or 
maybe  it  may  fare  ill  with  thee." 

As  he  spoke  the  Sheriff's  ruddy  cheeks  grew  pale,  and  he  said  nothing  more 
but  looked  upon  the  ground  and  gnawed  his  nether  lip.  Then  slowly  he  drew 
forth  his  fat  purse  and  threw  it  upon  the  cloth  in  front  of  him. 

"Now  take  the  purse,  Little  John,"  quoth  Robin  Hood,  "and  see  that  the 
reckoning  be  right.  We  would  not  doubt  our  Sheriff,  but  he  might  not  like  it 
if  he  should  find  he  had  not  paid  his  full  score." 

Then  Little  John  counted  the  money,  and  found  that  the  bag  held  three  hun 
dred  pounds  in  silver  and  gold.  But  to  the  Sheriff  it  seemed  as  if  every  clink 
of  the  bright  money  was  a  drop  of  blood  from  his  veins  ;  and  when  he  saw  it  all 
counted  out  in  a  heap  of  silver  and  gold,  filling  a  wooden  platter,  he  turned 
away  and  silently  mounted  his  horse. 


56  ROBIN  HOOD   TURNS  BUTCHER. 

"  Never  have  we  had  so  worshipful  a  guest  before  !  "  quoth  Robin  ;  "  and,  as 
the  day  waxeth  late,  I  will  send  one  of  my  young  men  to  guide  thee  out  of  the 
forest  depths." 

"  Nay,  heaven  forbid ! "  cried  the  Sheriff,  hastily.  "  I  can  find  mine  own 
way,  good  man,  without  aid." 

"  Then  I  will  put  thee  on  the  right  track  mine  own  self,"  quoth  Robin  ;  and, 
taking  the  Sheriff's  horse  by  the  bridle  rein,  he  led  him  into  the  main  forest 
path  ;  then,  before  he  let  him  go,  he  said,  "  Now,  fare  thee  well,  good  Sheriff, 
and  when  next  thou  thinkest  to  despoil  some  poor  prodigal,  remember  thy  feast 
in  Sherwood  Forest.  '  Ne'er  buy  a  horse,  good  friend,  without  first  looking  into 
its  mouth/  as  our  good  gaffer  Swanthold  says.  And  so,  once  more,  fare  thee 
well."  Then  he  clapped  his  hand  to  the  horse's  back,  and  off  went  nag  and 
Sheriff  through  the  forest  glades. 

Then  bitterly  the  Sheriff  rued  the  day  that  first  he  meddled  with  Robin  Hood, 
for  all  men  laughed  at  him  and  many  ballads  were  sung  by  folk  throughout  the 
country,  of  how  the  Sheriff  went  to  shear  and  came  home  shorn  to  the  very 
quick.  For  thus  men  sometimes  overreach  themselves  through  greed  and 
guile. 


II. 

Little  John  goes  to  the  Fair  at  Nottingham 

Town. 

NOW  we  will  tell  of  the  merry  adventures  that  befell  Little  John  at  the 
shooting-match  at  Nottingham,  and  how  he  overcame  Eric  o'  Lincoln  in 
the  famous  bout  at  quarterstaff  in  that  town  ;  also  how  he  entered  the 
Sheriff's  service,  and  of  his  merry  encounter  with  the  Sheriff's  cook.     So  listen 
to  what  follows. 

Spring  had  gone  since  the  Sheriff's  feast  in  Sherwood,  and  summer  also,  and 
the  mellow  month  of  October  had  come.  All  the  air  was  cool  and  fresh ;  the 
harvests  were  gathered  home,  the  young  birds  were  full  fledged,  the  hops  were 
plucked,  and  apples  were  ripe.  But  though  time  had  so  smoothed  things  over 
that  men  no  longer  talked  of  the  horned  beasts  that  the  Sheriff  wished  to  buy, 
he  was  still  sore  about  the  matter  and  could  not  bear  to  hear  Robin  Hood's 
name  spoken  in  his  presence. 

With  October  had  come  the  time  for  holding  the  great  Fair  which  was  cele 
brated  every  five  years  at  Nottingham  Town,  to  which  folk  came  from  far  and 
near  throughout  the  country.  At  such  times  archery  was  always  the  main  sport 
of  the  day,  for  the  Nottinghamshire  yeomen  were  the  best  hand  at  the  longbow 
in  all  Merry  England  ;  but  this  year  the  Sheriff  hesitated  a  long  time  before  he 
issued  proclamation  of  the  Fair,  fearing  lest  Robin  Hood  and  his  band  might 
come  to  it.  At  first  he  had  a  great  part  of  a  mind  not  to  proclaim  the  Fair,  but 
second  thought  told  him  that  men  would  laugh  at  him  and  say  among  them 
selves  that  he  was  afraid  of  Robin  Hood,  so  he  put  that  thought 
by.  At  last  he  fixed  in  his  mind  that  he  would  offer  such  a  prize 
as  they  would  not  care  to  shoot  for.  At  such  times  it  had  been 
the  custom  to  offer  a  half  score  of  marks  or  a  tun  of  ale,  so  this  eth  a  prize'for 

.  the  archery  bout. 

year  he  proclaimed  that  a  prize  of  two  fat  steers  should  be  given 
to  the  best  bowman. 

When  Robin  Hood  heard  what  had  been  proclaimed  he  was  vexed,  and  said, 
"  Now  beshrew  this  Sheriff  that  he  should  offer  such  a  prize  that  none  but 
shepherd  hinds  will  care  to  shoot  for  it !  I  would  have  loved  nothing  better 
than  to  have  had  another  bout  at  merry  Nottingham  Town,  but  if  I  should  win 
this  prize  naught  would  it  pleasure  or  profit  me." 


The  Sheriff pro- 
claimeth  the 
Fair  at  Notting 
ham,  and  offer- 


58    LITTLE  JOHN  GOES  TO  THE  FAIR  AT  NOTTINGHAM  TOWN. 

Then  up  spoke  Little  John  :  "Nay,  but  hearken,  good  master,"  said  he,  "only 
Little  John  will  to-day  Will  Stutely,  young  David  of  Doncaster,  and  I  were  at  the 

go  to  Dotting-  •  £   th       B1         g  and    th  we    h         d    all    th  £    thi 

ham  to  shoot  for        & 

the  prize.  merry  Fair,  and  also  that  the  Sheriff  hath  offered  this  prize  that 

we  of  Sherwood  might  not  care  to  come  to  the  Fair  ;  so,  good  master,  if  thoti 
wilt,  I  would  fain  go  and  strive  to  win  even  this  poor  thing  among  the  stout 
yeomen  who  will  shoot  at  Nottingham  Town." 

"  Nay,  Little  John,"  quoth  Robin,  "  thou  art  a  sound  stout  fellow,  yet  thou 
lackest  the  cunning  that  good  Stutely  hath,  and  I  would  not  have  harm  befall 
thee  for  all  Nottinghamshire.  Nevertheless  if  thou  wilt  go,  take  some  disguise 
lest  there  be  those  there  who  may  know  thee." 

"  So  be  it,  good  master,"  quoth  Little  John ;  "yet  all  the  disguise  that  I  wish 
is  a  good  suit  of  scarlet  instead  of  this  of  Lincoln  green.  I  will  draw  the  cowl 
of  my  jacket  about  my  head  so  that  it  will  hide  my  brown  hair  and  beard,  and 
then,  I  trust,  no  one  will  know  one." 

"  It  is  much  against  my  will,"  said  Robin  Hood,  ne'ertheless,  if  thou  dost  wish 
it,  get  thee  gone,  but  bear  thyself  seemingly,  Little  John,  for  thou  art  mine  own 
right  hand  man  and  I  could  ill  bear  to  have  harm  befall  thee." 

So  Little  John  clad  himself  all  in  scarlet,  and  started  off  to  the  Fair  at  Not 
tingham  Town. 

Right  merry  were  these  Fair  days  at  Nottingham,  when  the  green  before 
the  great  town  gate  was  dotted  with  booths  standing  in  rows,  with  tents  of 
many-colored  canvas,  hung  about  with  streamers  and  garlands  of  flowers,  and 
the  folk  came  from  all  the  countryside,  both  gentle  and  common.  In  some 
booths  there  was  dancing  to  merry  music,  in  others  flowed  ale  and  beer,  and  in 
others  yet  again  sweet  cakes  and  barley  sugar  were  sold  ;  and  sport  was  going 
outside  the  booths  also,  where  some  minstrel  sang  ballads  of  the  olden  time, 
playing  a  second  upon  the  harp,  or  where  the  wrestlers  struggled  with  one 
another  within  the  sawdust  ring  ;  but  the  people  gathered  most  of  all  around  a 
raised  platform  where  stout  fellows  played  at  quarterstaff. 

So  Little  John  came  to  the  Fair.  All  scarlet  were  his  hose  and  jerkin,  and 
Little  John  com-  scarlet  was  his  cowled  cap,  with  a  scarlet  feather  stuck  in  the  side 
eth  to  the  Fair.  o£  jt>  Over  his  shoulders  was  slung  a  stout  bow  of  yew,  and 
across  his  back  hung  a  quiver  of  good  round  arrows.  Many  turned  to  look 
after  such  a  stout,  tall  fellow,  for  his  shoulders  were  broader  by  a  palm's 
breadth  than  any  that  were  there,  and  he  stood  a  head  taller  than  all  the  other 
men.  The  lasses,  also,  looked  at  him  askance,  thinking  they  had  never  seen  a 
lustier  youth. 

First  of  all  he  went  to  the  booth  where  stout  ale  was  sold,  and,  standing  aloft 


LITTLE  JOHN  GOES  TO  THE  FAIR  AT  NOTTINGHAM  TOWN.  59 

on  a  bench,  he  called  to  all  that  were  near  to  come  and  drink  with  him.  "  Hey, 
sweet  lads  !  "  cried  he,  "  who  will  drink  ale  with  a  stout  yeoman  ?  Come,  all ! 
come,  all !  Let  us  be  merry,  for  the  day  is  sweet  and  the  ale  is  tingling.  Come 
hither,  good  yeoman,  and  thou,  and  thou  ;  for  not  a  farthing  shall  one  of  you 
pay.  Nay,  turn  hither,  thou  lusty  beggar,  and  thou  jolly  tinker,  for  all  shall 
be  merry  with  me." 

Thus  he  shouted,  and  all  crowded  around,  laughing,  while  the  brown  ale 
flowed  ;  and  they  called  Little  John  a  brave  fellow,  each  swearing  that  he  loved 
him  as  his  own  brother  ;  for  when  one  has  entertainment  with  nothing  to  pay, 
one  loves  the  man  that  gives  it  to  one. 

The  next  place  Little  John  went  to  was  the  dancing  booth,  where  three  men 
made  sweet  music  with  bagpipes.  Here  he  laid  aside  his  bow  and  his  quiver, 
and  joined  in  the  sport,  dancing  so  long  that  none  could  stand  against  him.  A 
score  of  lasses  came,  one  after  another,  and  strove  to  dance  him  down,  but  could 
not  do  so ;  for  Little  John  leaped  so  high,  snapping  his  fingers  the  while,  and 
shouted  so  loud,  that  every  lass  vowed  that  she  had  never  seen  so  sweet  a  lad 
in  all  her  life  before. 

Then,  after  he  had  danced  a  long  time,  he  strolled  to  the  platform  where 
they  were  at  cudgel-play,  for  he  loved  a  bout  at  quarterstaff  as  he  loved  meat 
and  drink  ;  and  here  befell  an  adventure  that  was  sung  in  ballads  throughout 
the  mid-country  for  many  a  day. 

One  fellow  there  was  that  cracked  crowns  of  every  one  who  threw  cap  into 
the  ring.  This  was  Eric  o'  Lincoln,  of  great  renown,  whose  name  had  been 
sung  in  ballads  throughout  the  countryside.  When  Little  John  reached  the 
stand  he  found  none  fighting,  but  only  bold  Eric  walking  up  and  down  the 
platform,  swinging  his  staff  and  shouting  lustily :  "  Now,  who  will  come  and 
strike  a  stroke  for  the  lass  he  loves  the  best,  with  a  good  Lincolnshire  yeoman  ? 
How  now,  lads  ?  step  up  !  step  up  !  or  else  the  lasses'  eyes  are  not  bright  here 
abouts,  or  the  blood  of  Nottingham  youth  is  sluggish  and  cold.  Lincoln  against 
Nottingham,  say  I !  for  no  one  hath  put  foot  upon  the  boards  this  day  such  as 
we  of  Lincoln  call  a  cudgel-player." 

At  this,  one  would  nudge  another  with  his  elbow,  saying,  "Go  thou,  Ned  !" 
or  "  Go  thou,  Thomas  ! "  but  no  lad  cared  to  gain  a  cracked  crown  for  nothing. 

Presently  Eric  saw  where  Little  John  stood  among  the  others,  a  head 
and  shoulders  above  them  all,  and  he  called  to  him  loudly,  "  Hal-  Lfa/g  hn  bgat_ 
loa,  thou  long-legged  fellow  in  scarlet!  Broad  are  thy  shoulders  eth  Eric  o'  Lin- 
and  thick  thy  head  ;  is  not  thy  lass  fair  enough  for  thee  to  take 
cudgel  in  hand  for  her  sake  ?  In  truth,  I  believe  that  Netting- 
ham  men  do  turn  to  bone  and  sinew,  for  neither  heart  nor  courage 
have  they !  Now,  thou  great  lout,  wilt  thou  not  twirl  staff  for  Nottingham  ? " 


60  LITTLE  JOHN  GOES  TO  THE  FAIR  AT  NOTTINGHAM  TOWN. 

"  Ay,"  quoth  Little  John,  "  had  I  but  mine  own  good  staff  here,  it  would 
pleasure  me  hugely  to  crack  thy  knave's  pate,  thou  saucy  braggart !  I  wot  it 
would  be  well  for  thee  an  thy  cock's  comb  were  cut-!  "  Thus  he  spoke,  slowly 
at  first,  for  he  was  slow  to  move ;  but  his  wrath  gathered  headway  like  a  great 
stone  rolling  down  a  hill,  so  that  at  the  end  he  was  full  of  anger. 

Then  Eric  o'  Lincoln  laughed  aloud.  "  Well  spoken  for  one  who  fears  to 
meet  me  fairly,  man  to  man,"  said  he.  "  Saucy  art  thou  thine  own  self,  and,  if 
thou  puttest  foot  upon  these  boards,  I  will  make  thy  saucy  tongue  rattle  within 
thy  teeth  ! " 

"  Now,"  quoth  Little  John,  "  is  there  never  a  man  here  that  will  lend  me 
a  good  stout  staff  till  I  try  the  mettle  of  yon  fellow  ?  "  At  this,  half  a  score 
reached  him  their  staves,  and  he  took  the  stoutest  and  heaviest  of  them  all. 
Then,  looking  up  and  down  the  cudgel,  he  said,  "  Now,  I  have  in  my  hand  but 
a  splint  of  wood,  —  a  barley-straw,  an  it  were,  —  yet,  I  trow  it  will  have  to  serve 
me  ;  so  here  goeth."  Thereupon  he  cast  the  cudgel  upon  the  stand,  and,  leap 
ing  lightly  after  it,  snatched  it  up  in  his  hand  again. 

Then  each  man  stood  in  his  place  and  measured  the  other  with  fell  looks 
until  he  that  directed  the  sport  cried,  "  Play ! "  At  this  they  stepped  forth, 
each  grasping  his  staff  tightly  in  the  middle.  Then  those  that  stood  around 
saw  the  stoutest  game  of  quarterstaff  that  e'er  Nottingham  Town  beheld.  At 
first  Eric  o'  Lincoln  thought  that  he  would  gain  an  easy  advantage,  so  he  came 
forth  as  if  he  would  say,  "  Watch,  good  people,  how  that  I  carve  you  this  cock 
erel  right  speedily ; "  but  he  presently  found  it  to  be  no  such  speedy  matter. 
Right  deftly  he  struck,  and  with  great  skill  of  fence,  but  he  had  found  his 
match  in  Little  John.  Once,  twice,  thrice  he  struck,  and  three  times  Little 
John  turned  the  blows  to  the  left  hand  and  to  the  right.  Then  quickly  and 
with  a  dainty  backhanded  blow  he  rapped  Eric  beneath  his  guard  so  shrewdly 
that  it  made  his  head  ring  again.  Then  Eric  stepped  back  to  gather  his  wits, 
while  a  great  shout  went  up  and  all  were  glad  that  Nottingham  had  cracked 
Lincoln's  crown ;  and  thus  ended  the  first  bout  of  the  game. 

Then  presently  the  director  of  the  sport  cried,  "  Play ! "  and  they  came  to 
gether  again ;  but  now  Eric  played  warily,  for  he  found  his  man  was  of  right 
good  mettle,  and  also  he  had  no  sweet  memory  of  the  blow  that  he  had  got  ;  so 
this  bout  neither  Little  John  nor  the  Lincoln  man  caught  a  stroke  within  his 
guard ;  then,  after  a  while,  they  parted  again,  and  this  made  the  second  bout. 

Then  for  the  third  time  they  came  together,  and  at  first  Eric  strove  to  be 
wary,  as  he  had  been  before  ;  but,  growing  mad  at  finding  himself  so  foiled,  he 
lost  his  wits,  and  began  to  rain  blows  so  fiercely  and  so  fast  that  they  rattled 
like  hail  on  penthouse  roof ;  but,  in  spite  of  all,  he  did  not  reach  within  Little 
John's  guard.  Then  at  last  Little  John  saw  his  chance  and  seized  it  right 


LITTLE  JOHN  GOES  TO  THE  FAIR  AT  NOTTINGHAM  TOWN.    63 

cleverly.  Once  more,  with  a  quick  blow,  he  rapped  Eric  beside  the  head,  and 
ere  he  could  regain  himself,  Little  John  slipped  his  right  hand  down  to  his 
left,  and,  with  a  swinging  blow,  smote  the  other  so  sorely  upon  the  crown  that 
down  he  fell  as  though  he  would  never  move  again. 

Then  the  people  shouted  so  loud  that  folk  came  running  from  all  about  to 
see  what  was  the  ado  ;  while  Little  John  leaped  down  from  the  stand  and  gave 
the  staff  back  to  him  that  had  lent  it  to  him.  And  thus  ended  the  famous  bout 
between  Little  John  and  Eric  o'  Lincoln  of  great  renown. 

But  now  the  time  had  come  when  those  who  were  to  shoot  with  the  long  bow 
were  to  take  their  places,  so  the  people  began  flocking  to  the  butts  where  the 
shooting  was  to  be.  Near  the  target,  in  a  good  place,  sat  the  Sheriff,  upon  a 
raised  dais,  with  many  gentlefolk  around  him.  When  the  archers  had  taken 
their  places,  the  herald  came  forward  and  proclaimed  the  rules  of  the  game,  and 
how  each  should  shoot  three  shots,  and  to  him  that  should  shoot  the  best  the 
prize  of  two  fat  steers  was  to  belong.  A  score  of  brave  shots  were  gathered 
there,  and  among  them  some  of  the  keenest  hands  at  the  long  bow  in  Lincoln 
and  Nottinghamshire  ;  and  among  them  Little  John  stood  taller  than  all  the 
rest.  "  Who  is  yon  stranger  clad  all  in  scarlet  ?  "  said  some  ;  and  others  an 
swered,  "  It  is  he  that  hath  but  now  so  soundly  cracked  the  crown  of  Eric  o' 
Lincoln."  Thus  the  people  talked  among  themselves,  until  at  last  it  reached 
even  the  Sheriff's  ears. 

And  now  each  man  stepped  forward  and  shot  in  turn  ;  but  though  each  shot 
well,  Little  John  was  the  best  of  all,  for  three  times  he  struck  the  hn 

clout,  and  once  only  the  length  of  a  barleycorn  from  the  centre,  shooteth  in  the 
"  Hey  for  the  tall  archer  !  "  shouted  the  crowd  ;  and  some  among 


them  shouted,  "  Hey  for  Reynold  Greenleaf  !  "  for  this  was  the    Town  and  -win- 

J  J  MM  the  prize. 

name  that  Little  John  had  called  himself  that  day. 

Then  the  Sheriff  stepped  down  from  the  raised  seat  and  came  to  where  the 
archers  stood,  while  all  doffed  their  caps  that  saw  him  coming. 
He  looked  keenly  at  Little  John,  but  did  not  know  him,  though    talkttk  "to  Little 
he  said,  after  a  while,  "  How  now,  good  fellow,  methinks  there  is    $f%*!£>~' 
that  about  thy  face  that  I  have  seen  erewhile." 

"Mayhap  it  may  be  so,"  quoth  Little  John,  "for  often  have  I  seen  your 
worship  ;  "  and,  as  he  spoke,  he  looked  steadily  into  the  Sheriff's  eyes,  so  that 
the  latter  did  not  suspect  who  he  was. 

"A  brave  blade  art  thou,  good  friend,"  said  the  Sheriff,  "and  I  hear  that 
thou  hast  well  upheld  the  skill  of  Nottinghamshire  against  that  of  Lincoln  this 
day.  What  may  be  thy  name,  good  fellow  ?  " 

"  Men  do  call  me  Reynold  Greenleaf,  your  worship,"  said  Little  John  ;  and 
the  old  ballad  that  tells  of  this,  adds,  "  So,  in  truth,  was  he  a  green  leaf,  but  of 
what  manner  of  tree  the  Sheriff  wotted  not" 


64    LITTLE  JOHN  GOES  TO  THE  FAIR  AT  NOTTINGHAM  TOWN. 

"Now,  Reynold  Greenleaf,"  quoth  the  Sheriff,  "thou  art  the  fairest  hand  at 
the  long  bow  that  mine  eyes  ever  beheld,  next  to  that  false  knave,  Robin  Hood, 
from  whose  wiles  Heaven  forfend  me  !  Wilt  thou  join  my  service,  good  fellow  ? 
Thou  shalt  be  paid  right  well,  for  three  suits  of  clothes  shalt  thou  have  a  year, 
with  good  food  and  as  much  ale  as  thou  canst  drink;  and,  beside  this,  I  will 
pay  thee  forty  marks  each  Michaelmastide." 

"  Then  here  stand  I  a  free  man,  and  right  gladly  will  I  enter  thy  house- 
Littie  John  en-  h°W  said  Little  John  ;  for  he  thought  he  might  find  some  merry 
tereth  the  sher-  jest,  should  he  enter  the  Sheriff's  service. 

"  Fairly  hast  thou  won  the  fat  steers,"  said  the  Sheriff,  "  and 
thereunto  I  will  add  a  butt  of  good  March  beer,  for  joy  of  having  gotten  such  a 
man  ;  for,  I  wot,  thou  shootest  as  fair  a  shaft  as  Robin  Hood  himself." 

"  Then,"  said  Little  John,  "for  joy  of  having  gotten  myself  into  thy  service,  I 
Little  John  giv-  will  give  fat  steers  and  brown  ale  to  all  these  good  folk,  to  make 
£the  ^uTaTtk*  tnem  merry  withal."  At  this  arose  a  great  shout,  many  casting 
Fair.  their  caps  aloft,  for  joy  of  the  gift. 

Then  some  built  great  fires  and  roasted  the  steers,  and  others  broached  the 
butt  of  ale,  with  which  all  made  themselves  merry  ;  then,  when  they  had  eaten 
and  drunk  as  much  as  they  could,  and  when  the  day  faded  and  the  great  moon 
arose,  all  red  and  round,  over  the  spires  and  towers  of  Nottingham  Town,  they 
joined  hands  and  danced  around  the  fires,  to  the  music  of  bagpipes  and  harps. 
But  long  before  this  merrymaking  had  begun,  the  Sheriff  and  his  new  servant, 
Reynold  Greenleaf,  were  in  the  Castle  of  Nottingham. 


III. 

How  Little   John    lived  at  the  Sheriff's 

House. 

THUS  Little  John  entered  into  the  Sheriff's  service,  and  found  the  life  he 
led  there  easy  enough,  for  the  Sheriff  made  him  his  right-hand  man,  and 
held  him  in  great  favor.    He  sat  nigh  the  Sheriff  at  meat,  and  he  ran  be 
side  his  horse  when  he  went  a-hunting ;  so  that,  what  with  hunting  and  hawk 
ing  a  little,  and  eating  rich  dishes  and  drinking  good  sack  and   Hffw  that  Little 
sleeping  until  late  hours  in  the  morning,  he  grew  as  fat  as  a  stall-   John  lived  in  the 

„,,  .  ,,  MI  -i  •  M  Sheriff 's  service. 

fed  ox.     Thus  things  floated  easily  along  with  the  tide,  until  one 

day  when  the  Sheriff  went  a-hunting,  there  happened  that  which  broke  the 

smooth  surface  of  things. 

This  morning  the  Sheriff  and  many  of  his  men  set  forth  to  meet  certain 
lords,  to  go  a-hunting.  He  looked  all  about  him  for  his  good  The  Sfterija-  go. 
man,  Reynold  Greenleaf,  but,  not  finding  him,  was  vexed,  for  he  eth  a-hunting 

•  !  -11  i,      r-  A      r         and  leaveth  Lit- 

wished  to  show  Little  John  s  skill  to  his  noble  friends.  As  tor  tie  John  at 
Little  John,  he  lay  abed,  snoring  lustily,  till  the  sun  was  high  in  home 
the  heavens.  At  last  he  opened  his  eyes  and  looked  about  him,  but  did  not 
move  to  arise.  Brightly  shone  the  sun  in  at  the  window,  and  all  the  air  was 
sweet  with  the  scent  of  woodbine  that  hung  in  sprays  about  the  wall  without, 
for  the  cold  winter  was  past  and  spring  was  come  again,  and  Little  John  lay 
still,  thinking  how  sweet  was  everything  on  this  fair  morn.  Just  then  he  heard, 
faint  and  far  away,  a  distant  bugle-note  sounding  thin  and  clear.  The  sound 
was  small,  but,  like  a  little  pebble  dropped  into  a  glassy  fountain,  it  broke  all 
the  smooth  surface  of  his  thoughts,  until  his  whole  soul  was  filled  with  disturb 
ance.  His  spirit  seemed  to  awaken  from  its  sluggishness,  and  his  memory 
brought  back  to  him  all  the  merry  greenwood  life,  —  how  the  birds  were  sing 
ing  blithely  there  this  bright  morning,  and  how  his  loved  companions  and 
friends  were  feasting  and  making  merry,  or  perhaps  talking  of  him  with  sober 
speech  ;  for  when  he  first  entered  the  Sheriff's  service  he  did  so  in  jest ;  but 
the  hearthstone  was  warm  during  the  winter,  and  the  fare  was  full,  and  so  he 
had  abided,  putting  off  from  day  to  day  his  going  back  to  Sherwood,  until  six 
long  months  had  passed.  But  now  he  thought  of  his  good  master,  and  of  Will 
Stutely,  whom  he  loved  better  than  any  one  in  all  the  world,  and  of  young 
5 


66     HOW  LITTLE   JOHN  LIVED  AT  THE  SHERIFF'S  HOUSE. 

David  of  Doncaster,  whom  he  had  trained  so  well  in  all  manly  sports,  till  there 
came  over  his  heart  a  great  and  bitter  longing  for  them  all,  so  that  his  eyes 
filled  with  tears.  Then  he  said  aloud  :  "  Here  I  grow  fat  like  a  stall-fed  ox  and 
all  my  manliness  departeth  from  me  while  I  become  a  sluggard  and  dolt.  But 
I  will  arouse  me  and  go  back  to  mine  own  dear  friends  once  more,  and  never 
will  I  leave  them  again  till  life  doth  leave  my  lips."  So  saying,  he  leaped  from 
bed,  for  he  hated  his  sluggishness  now. 

When  he  came  down-stairs  he  saw  the  Steward  standing  near  the  pantry 
Little  John  seek-  door, — a  great,  fat  man,  with  a  huge  bundle  of  keys  hanging 
eth  his  break-  to  his  girdle.  Then  Little  John  said,  "  Ho,  Master  Steward,  a 
steward  giveth  hungry  man  am  I,  for  nought  have  I  had  for  all  this  blessed 
it  him  not.  morn  Therefore,  give  me  to  eat." 

Then  the  Steward  looked  grimly  at  him  and  rattled  the  keys  in  his  girdle,  for 
he  hated  Little  John  because  he  had  found  favor  with  the  Sheriff.  "  So,  Mas 
ter  Reynold  Greenleaf,  thou  art  an  hungered,  art  thou  ? "  quoth  he.  "  But,  fair 
youth,  if  thou  livest  long  enough,  thou  wilt  find  that  he  who  getteth  overmuch 
sleep  for  an  idle  head  goeth  with  an  empty  stomach.  For  what  sayeth  the  old 
saw,  Master  Greenleaf  ?  is  it  not  '  The  late  fowl  findeth  but  ill  faring  ? ' ' 

"  Now,  thou  great  purse  of  fat !  "  cried  Little  John,  "  I  ask  thee  not  for  fool's 
wisdom,  but  for  bread  and  meat.  Who  art  thou,  that  thou  shouldst  deny  me  to 
eat  ?  By  Saint  Dunstan,  thou  hadst  best  tell  me  where  my  breakfast  is,  if  thou 
wouldst  save  broken  bones  !" 

"Thy  breakfast,  Master  Fireblaze,  is  in  the  pantry,"  answered  the  Steward. 

"Then  fetch  it  hither  !  "  cried  Little  John,  who  waxed  angry  by  this  time. 

"  Go  thou  and  fetch  it  thine  own  self,"  quoth  the  Steward.  "  Am  I  thy 
slave,  to  fetch  and  carry  for  thee?  " 

"  I  say,  go  thou,  bring  it  me  ! " 

"  I  say,  go  thou,  fetch  it  for  thyself  ! " 

"  Ay,  marry,  that  will  I,  right  quickly ! "  quoth  Little  John,  in  a  rage  ;  and, 
Little  John  so  saying,  he  strode  to  the  pantry  and  tried  to  open  the  door ; 
iTtfe  steward  but  found  il  locked,  whereat  the  Steward  laughed  and  rattled 
pantry.  his  keys.  Then  the  wrath  of  Little  John  boiled  over,  and,  lifting 

his  clenched  fist,  he  smote  the  pantry  door,  bursting  out  three  panels,  and 
making  so  large  an  opening  that  he  could  easily  stoop  and  walk  through  it. 

.When  the  Steward  saw  what  was  done,  he  waxed  mad  with  rage ;  and,  as 
Little  John  stooped  to  look  within  the  pantry,  he  seized  him  from  behind  by 
the  nape  of  the  neck,  pinching  him  sorely  and  smiting  him  over  the  head  with 
his  keys  till  the  yeoman's  ears  rang  again.  At  this  Little  John  turned  upon 
.  the  Steward  and  smote  him  such  a  buffet  that  the  fat  man  fell  to  the  floor  and 
lay  there  as  though  he  would  never  move  again.  "  There,"  quoth  Little  John, 


HOW  LITTLE   JOHN  LIVED  AT  THE  SHERIFFS  HOUSE.     67 

"  think  well  of  that  stroke  and  never  keep  a  good  breakfast  from  a  hungry  man 
again." 

So  saying,  he  crept  into  the  pantry  and  looked  about  him  to  see  if  he  could 
find  something  to  appease  his  hunger.  He  saw  a  great  venison  pasty  and  two 
roasted  capons,  beside  which  was  a  platter  of  plover's  eggs  ;  moreover,  there 
was  a  flask  of  sack  and  one  of  canary,  —  a  sweet  sight  to  a  hungry  man. 
These  he  took  down  from  the  shelves  and  placed  upon  a  sideboard,  and  pre 
pared  to  make  himself  merry. 

Now  the  Cook,  in  the  kitchen  across  the  courtyard,  heard  the  loud  talking 
between  Little  John  and  the  Steward,  and  also  the  blow  that  Little  John  struck 
the  other,  so  he  came  running  across  the  court  and  up  the  stairway  to  where 
the  Steward's  pantry  was,  bearing  in  his  hands  the  spit  with  the  roast  still  upon 
it.  Meanwhile  the  Steward  had  gathered  his  wits  about  him  and  risen  to  his 
feet,  so  that  when  the  Cook  came  to  the  Steward's  pantry  he  saw  him  glower 
ing  through  the  broken  door  at  Little  John,  who  was  making  ready  for  a  good 
repast,  as  one  dog  glowers  at  another  that  has  a  bone.  When  the  Steward  saw 
the  Cook,  he  came  to  him,  and,  putting  one  arm  over  his  shoulder,  "  Alas, 
sweet  friend!  "  quoth  he,  — for  the  Cook  was  a  tall,  stout  man,  —  "seest  thou 
what  that  vile  knave,  Reynold  Greenleaf,  hath  done  ?  He  hath  broken  in  upon 
our  master's  goods,  and  hath  smitten  me  a  buffet  upon  the  ear,  so  that  I 
thought  I  was  dead.  Good  Cook,  I  love  thee  well,  and  thou  shalt  have  a  good 
pottle  of  our  master's  best  wine  every  day,  for  thou  art  an  old  and  faithful 
servant.  Also,  good  Cook,  I  have  ten  shillings  that  I  mean  to  give  as  a  gift  to 
thee.  But  hatest  thou  not  to  see  a  vile  upstart  like  this  Reynold  Greenleaf 
taking  it  upon  him  so  bravely  ?  " 

"  Ay,  marry,  that  do  I,"  quoth  the  Cook  boldly,  for  he  liked  the  Steward 
because  of  his  talk  of  the  wine  and  of  the  ten  shillings.  "  Get  thee  gone 
straightway  to  thy  room,  and  I  will  bring  out  this  knave  by  his  ears."  So  say 
ing,  he  laid  aside  his  spit  and  drew  the  sword  that  hung  by  his  side ;  where 
upon  the  Steward  left  as  quickly  as  he  could,  for  he  hated  the  sight  of  naked 
steel. 

Then  the  Cook  walked  straightway  to  the  broken  pantry  door,  through  which 
he  saw  Little  John  tucking  a  napkin  beneath  his  chin,  and  pre-  The  Cook  cometh 
paring  to  make  himself  merry.  S 

"  Why,  how  now,  Reynold  Greenleaf  ?  "  said  the  Cook ;  "  thou    tie  John. 
art  no  better  than  a  thief,  I  wot.    Come  thou  straight  forth,  man,  or  I  will  carve 
thee  as  I  would  carve  a  sucking  pig." 

"  Nay,  good  Cook,  bear  thou  thyself  more  seemingly,  or  else  I  will  come 
forth  to  thy  dole.  At  most  times  I  am  as  a  yearling  lamb,  but  when  one 
cometh  between  me  and  my  meat,  I  am  a  raging  lion,  as  it  were." 


68      HOW  LITTLE   JOHN  LIVED  AT  THE  SHERIFF'S  HOUSE. 

"  Lion  or  no  lion,"  quoth  the  valorous  Cook,  "  come  thou  straight  forth,  else 
thou  art  a  coward  heart  as  well  as  a  knavish  thief." 

"  Ha ! "  cried  Little  John,  "  coward's  name  have  I  never  had  ;  so,  look  to 
thyself,  good  Cook,  for  I  come  forth  straight,  the  roaring  lion  I  did  speak  of 
but  now." 

Then  he,  too,  drew  his  sword  and  came  out  of  the  pantry  ;  then,  putting 
themselves  into  position,  they  came  slowly  together,  with  grim  and  angry 
looks  ;  but  suddenly  Little  John  lowered  his  point.  "  Hold,  good  Cook !  "  said 
he.  "  Now,  I  bethink  me  it  were  ill  of  us  to  fight  with  good  victuals  standing 
so  nigh,  and  such  a  feast  as  would  befit  two  stout  fellows  such  as  we  are. 
Marry,  good  friend,  I  think  we  should  enjoy  this  fair  feast  ere  we  fight.  What 
sayest  thou,  jolly  Cook  ?  " 

At  this  speech  the  Cook  looked  up  and  down,  scratching  his  head  in  doubt, 
for  he  loved  good  feasting.  At  last  he  drew  a  long  breath,  and  said  to  Little 
John,  "  Well,  good  friend,  I  like  thy  plan  right  well ;  so,  pretty  boy,  say  I,  let 
us  feast,  with  all  my  heart,  for  one  of  us  may  sup  in  Paradise  before  night 
fall." 

So  each  thrust  his  sword  back  into  the  scabbard,  and  entered  the  pantry  ; 
Little  7okn  then,  after  they  had  seated  themselves,  Little  John  drew  his  dag- 
feasteth  with  the  ger  and  thrust  it  into  the  pie.  "A  hungry  man  must  be  fed," 
quoth  he,  "  so,  sweet  chuck,  I  help  myself  without  leave."  But 
the  Cook  did  not  lag  far  behind,  for  straightway  his  hands  also  were  deeply 
thrust  within  the  goodly  pasty.  After  this,  neither  of  them  spoke  further,  but 
used  their  teeth  to  better  purpose.  But  though  neither  spoke,  they  looked  at 
one  another,  each  thinking  within  himself  that  he  had  never  seen  a  more  lusty 
fellow  than  the  one  across  the  board. 

At  last,  after  a  long  time  had  passed,  the  Cook  drew  a  full,  deep  breath,  as 
though  of  much  regret,  and  wiped  his  hands  upon  the  napkin,  for  he  could  eat 
no  more.  Little  John,  also,  had  enough,  for  he  pushed  the  pasty  aside,  as 
though  he  would  say,  "I  want  thee  by  me  no  more,  good  friend."  Then  he 
took  the  pottle  of  sack,  and  said  he,  "  Now,  good  fellow,  I  swear  by  all  that  is 
bright,  that  thou  art  the  stoutest  companion  at  eating  that  ever  I  had.  Lo !  I 
drink  thy  health."  So  saying,  he  clapped  the  flask  to  his  lips  and  cast  his  eyes 
aloft,  while  the  good  wine  flooded  his  throat.  Then  he  passed  the  pottle  to 
the  Cook,  who  also  said,  "  Lo,  I  drink  thy  health,  sweet  fellow !  "  Nor  was  he 
behind  Little  John  in  drinking  any  more  than  in  eating. 

"Now,"  quoth  Little  John,  "  thy  voice  is  right  round  and  sweet,  jolly  lad  ;  I 
doubt  not  thou  canst  sing  a  ballad  most  blithely ;  canst  thou  not  ?  " 

"Truly,  I  have  trolled  one  now  and  then,"  quoth  the  Cook  ;  "yet  I  would 
not  sing  alone." 


HOW  LITTLE   JOHN  LIVED  AT  THE  SHERIFF'S  HOUSE.     69 

"  Nay,  truly,"  said  Little  John,  "  that  were  but  ill  courtesy.  Strike  up  thy 
ditty,  and  I  will  afterwards  sing  one  to  match  it,  if  I  can." 

"  So  be  it,  pretty  boy,"  quoth  the  Cook.  "  And  hast  thou  e'er  heard  the 
song  of  the  Deserted  Shepherdess  ?  " 

"Truly,  I  know  not,"  answered  Little  John;  "but  sing  thou  away  and  let 
me  hear." 

Then  the  Cook  took  another  draught  from  the  pottle,  and,  clear-    The  Cook  sins- 

.    .  .  elk  of  the  Desert- 

ing  his  throat,  sang  right  sweetly,  —  ed  Shepherdess. 

THE  SONG  OF  THE    DESERTED  SHEPHERDESS. 

"  In  Lenten  time,  when  leaves  wax  green, 

And  pretty  birds  begin  to  mate, 
When  lark  doth  sing,  and  thrush,  I  ween, 

And  stockdove  cooeth  soon  and  late, 
Fair  Phillis  sat  beside  a  stone, 
And  thus  I  heard  her  make  her  moan  : 

'  O  willow,  willow,  willow,  willow  ! 
I '//  take  me  of  thy  branches  fair 
And  twine  a  wreath  to  deck  my  hair. 

"  '  The  thrush  hath  taken  him  a  she, 

The  robin,  too,  and  eke  the  dove  ; 
My  Robin  hath  deserted  me, 

And  left  me  for  another  love. 
So  here,  by  brookside,  all  alone, 
I  sit  me  down  and  make  my  moan. 

O  willow,  willow,  willow,  willow  ! 
I  'II  take  me  of  thy  branches  fair 
And  twine  a  wreath  to  deck  my  hair."1 

«r 

"  But  ne'er  came  herring  from  the  sea, 

But  good  as  he  were  in  the  tide; 
Young  Corydon  came  o'er  the  lea, 

And  sat  him  Phillis  down  beside. 
So,  presently,  she  changed  her  tone, 
And  'gan  to  cease  her  from  her  moan, 
'  O  willow,  willow,  willow,  willow  ! 
Thou  mayst  e'en  keep  thy  garlands  fair, 
I  want  them  not  to  deck  my  hair.'  " 

"  Now,  by  my  faith,"  cried  Little  John,  "  that  same  is  a  right  good  song,  and 
hath  truth  in  it,  also." 


70       HO W  LITTLE    JOHN  LIVED  AT  THE  SHERIFF'S  HOUSE. 

"  Glad  am  I  thou  likest  it,  sweet  lad,"  said  the  Cook  ;  "  now  sing  thou  one 
also,  for  ne'er  should  a  man  be  merry  alone,  or  sing  and  list  not." 

"  Then  I  will  sing  thee  a  song  of  a  right  good  knight  of  Arthur's  court,  and 
Little  John  sing-  how  he  cured  his  heart's  wound  without  running  upon  the  dart 
eth  of  the  Good  aprajn  as  did  thy  Phillis  :  for  I  wot  she  did  but  cure  one  smart 

Kmght  and  his  J 

Lome.  by  giving  herself  another.     So,  list  thou  while  I  sing  — 

THE    GOOD  KNIGHT  AND  HIS  LOVE. 

"  When  Arthur,  King,  did  rule  this  land, 

A  goodly  king  was  he, 
And  had  he  of  stout  knights  a  band 
Of  merry  company. 

"  Among  them  all,  both  great  and  small, 

A  good  stout  knight  was  there, 
A  lusty  childe,  and  eke  a  tall, 
That  loved  a  lady  fair. 

"  But  nought  would  she  to  do  with  he, 

But  turned  her  face  away  ; 
So  gat  he  gone  to  far  countrye, 
And  left  that  lady  gay. 

"  There  all  alone  he  made  his  moan, 

And  eke  did  sob  and  sigh, 
And  weep  till  it  would  move  a  stone, 
And  he  was  like  to  die. 

"  But  still  his  heart  did  feel  the  smart, 

And  eke  the  dire  distress, 
And  rather  grew  his  pain  more  sharp 
As  grew  his  body  less. 

"  Then  gat  he  back  where  was  good  sack 

And  merry  companye, 
And  soon  did  cease  to  cry  '  Alack  ! ' 
When  blithe  and  gay  was  he. 

"From  which  I  hold,  and  feel  full  bold 

To  say,  and  eke  believe, 
That  gin  the  belly  go  not  cold 
The  heart  will  cease  to  grieve." 


The-AVighty 
Little  John- 
IE^ 


HOW  LITTLE    JOHN  LIVED  AT  THE  SHERIFFS  HOUSE.       73 

"  Now,  by  my  faith,"  cried  the  Cook,  as  he  rattled  the  pottle  against  the  side 
board,  "  I  like  that  same  song  hugely,  and  eke  the  motive  of  it,  which  lieth 
like  a  sweet  kernel  in  a  hazel-nut." 

"  Now  thou  art  a  man  of  shrewd  opinions,"  quoth  Little  John,  "  and  I  love 
thee  truly  as  thou  wert  my  brother." 

"  And  I  love  thee,  too.  But  the  day  draweth  on,  and  I  have  my  cooking  to 
do  ere  our  master  cometh  home ;  so  let  us  e'en  go  and  settle  this  brave  fight 
we  have  in  hand." 

"Ay,  marry,"  quoth  Little  John,  "and  that  right  speedily.  Never  have  I 
been  more  laggard  in  fighting  than  in  eating  and  drinking.  So  come  thou 
straight  forth  into  the  passage-way,  where  there  is  good  room  to  swing  a  sword, 
and  I  will  try  to  serve  thee." 

Then  they  both  stepped  forth  into  the  broad  passage  that  led  to  the  Stew 
ard's  pantry,  where  each  man  drew  his  sword  again,  and  without  more  ado  fell 
upon  the  other  as  though  he  would  hew  his  fellow  limb  from  limb.  Then  their 
swords  clashed  upon  one  another  with  great  din,  and  sparks  flew  from  each 
blow  in  showers.  So  they  fought  up  and  down  the  hall  for  an  ultie  y0hn  anj 
hour  and  more,  neither  striking  the  other  a  blow,  though  they  the  Cockfight. 
strove  their  best  to  do  so  ;  for  both  were  skilful  at  the  fence ;  so  nothing  came 
of  all  their  labor.  Ever  and  anon  they  rested,  panting ;  then,  after  getting 
their  wind,  at  it  they  would  go  again  more  fiercely  than  ever.  At  last  Little 
John  cried  aloud,  "  Hold,  good  Cook  !  "  whereupon  each  rested  upon  his  sword, 
panting. 

"Now  will  I  make  my  vow,"  quoth  Little  John,  "thou  art  the  very  best 
swordsman  that  ever  mine  eyes  beheld.  Truly,  I  had  thought  to  carve  thee  ere 
now." 

"And  I  had  thought  to  do  the  same  by  thee,"  quoth  the  Cook  ;  "but  I  have 
missed  the  mark  somehow." 

"  Now  I  have  been  thinking  within  myself,"  quoth  Little  John,  "  what  we  are 
fighting  for  ;  but  albeit  I  do  not  rightly  know." 

"  Why,  no  more  do  I,"  said  the  Cook.  "  I  bear  no  love  for  that  pursy  Stew 
ard,  but  I  thought  that  we  had  engaged  to  fight  with  one  another,  and  that  it 
must  be  done." 

"  Now,"  quoth  Little  John,  "  it  doth  seem  to  me  that  instead  of  striving  to 
cut  one  another's  throats,  it  were  better  for  us  to  be  boon  companions.  What 
sayst  thou,  jolly  Cook,  wilt  thou  go  with  me  to  Sherwood  Forest  and  join  with 
Robin -Hood's  band?  Thou  shalt  live  a  merry  life  within  the  woodlands,  and 
sevenscore  good  companions  shalt  thou  have,  one  of  whom  is  mine  own  self. 
Thou  shalt  have  two  suits  of  Lincoln  green  each  year,  and  forty  marks  in 
pay." 


74    HOW  LITTLE   JOHN  LIVED  AT  THE  SHERIFF'S  HOUSE. 

"  Now,  thou  art  a  man  after  mine  own  heart ! "  cried  the  Cook  right  heart- 
Tke  Cook  goeth  ily  ;  "  and,  as  thou  speakest  of  it,  that  is  the  very  service  for  me. 

7oejo^o?inH  l  wil1  S°  with  thee»  and  that  riSht  g!adly.  Give  me  thy  palm, 
Hood's  band.  sweet  fellow,  and  I  will  be  thine  own  companion  from  henceforth. 
What  may  be  thy  name,  lad  ?  " 

"  Men  do  call  me  Little  John,  good  fellow." 

"  How?  And  art  thou  indeed  Little  John,  and  Robin  Hood's  own  right-hand 
man  ?  Many  a  time  and  oft  have  I  heard  of  thee,  but  never  did  I  hope  to  set 
eyes  upon  thee.  And  thou  art  indeed  the  famous  Little  John  ! "  And  the 
Cook  seemed  lost  in  amazement,  and  looked  upon  his  companion  with  open  eyes. 

"  I  am  Little  John,  indeed,  and  I  will  bring  to  Robin  Hood  this  day  a  right 
stout  fellow  to  join  his  merry  band.  But  ere  we  go,  good  friend,  it  seemeth  to 
me  to  be  a  vast  pity  that,  as  we  have  had  so  much  of  the  good  Sheriff's  food, 
we  should  not  also  carry  off  some  of  his  silver  plate  to  Robin  Hood,  as  a  pres 
ent  from  his  worship." 

"Ay,  marry  is  it,"  said  the  Cook.  And  so  they  began  hunting  about,  and 
took  as  much  silver  as  they  could  lay  hands  upon,  clapping  it  into  a  bag,  and 
when  they  had  filled  the  sack  they  set  forth  to  Sherwood  Forest. 

Plunging  into  the  woods,  they  came  at  last  to  the  greenwood  tree,  where  they 
Little  John  found  Robin  Hood  and  threescore  of  his  merry  men  lying  upon 
bCook  to  Robin  ^e  fresn  green  grass.  When  Robin  and  his  men  saw  who  it  was 
Hood.  that  came,  they  leaped  to  their  feet.  "  Now  welcome  ! "  cried 

Robin  Hood,  "  Now  welcome,  Little  John  !  for  long  hath  it  been  since  we  have 
heard  from  thee,  though  we  all  knew  that  thou  hadst  joined  the  Sheriff's  ser 
vice.  And  how  hast  thou  fared  all  these  long  days  ? " 

"  Right  merrily  have  I  lived  at  the  Lord  Sheriff's,"  answered  Little  John,  "and 
I  have  come  straight  thence.  See,  good  master  !  I  have  brought  thee  his  cook, 
and  even  his  silver  plate."  Thereupon  he  told  Robin  Hood  and  his  merry  men 
that  were  there  all  that  had  befallen  him  since  he  had  left  them  to  go  to  the 
Fair  at  Nottingham  Town.  Then  all  shouted  with  laughter,  except  Robin 
Hood  ;  but  he  looked  grave. 

"  Nay,  Little  John,"  said  he,  "  thou  art  a  brave  blade  and  a  trusty  fellow.  I 
Robin  Hood  re-  am  g^ad  thou  hast  brought  thyself  back  to  us,  and  with  such  a 
buketh  Little  good  companion  as  the  Cook,  whom  we  all  welcome  to  Sherwood. 
But  I  like  not  so  well  that  thou  hast  stolen  the  Sheriff's  plate  like 
some  paltry  thief.  The  Sheriff  hath  been  punished  by  us,  and  hath  lost  three 
hundred  pounds,  even  as  he  sought  to  despoil  another  ;  but  he  hath  done 
nought  that  we  should  steal  his  household  plate  from  him." 

Though  Little  John  was  vexed  with  this,  he  strove  to  pass  it  off  with  a  jest. 
"  Nay,  good  master,"  quoth  he,  "  if  thou  thinkest  the  Sheriff  gave  us  not  the 
plate,  I  will  fetch  him,  that  he  may  tell  us  with  his  own  lips  he  giveth  it  all  to 


HOW  LITTLE    JOHN  LIVED  AT  THE  SHERIFF'S  HOUSE.     75 

us."     So  saying,  he  leaped  to  his  feet,  and  was  gone  before  Robin  Hood  could 
call  him  back. 

Little  John  ran  for  full  five  miles  till  he  came  to  where  the  Sheriff  of  Not 
tingham  and  a  gay  company  were  hunting  near  the  forest.  When  Little  John 
came  to  the  Sheriff  he  doffed  his  cap  and  bent  his  knee.  "  God  save  thee, 
good  master,"  quoth  he. 

"Why,  Reynold  Greenleaf  !  "  cried  the  Sheriff,  "whence  comest  thou  and 
where  hast  thou  been  ?  " 

"  I  have  been  in  the  forest,"  answered  Little  John,  speaking  amazedly,  "  and 
there  I  saw  a  sight  such  as  ne'er  before  man's  eyes  beheld  !  Yonder  I  saw  a 
young  hart  all  in  green  from  top  to  toe,  and  about  him  was  a  herd  of  threescore 
deer,  and  they,  too,  were  all  of  green  from  head  to  foot.  Yet  I  dared  not  shoot, 
good  master,  for  fear  lest  they  should  slay  me." 

"Why,  how  now,  Reynold  Greenleaf,"  cried  the  Sheriff;  "art  thou  dreaming, 
or  art  thou  mad,  that  thou  dost  bring  me  such  a  tale  ? " 

"  Nay,  I  am  not  dreaming  nor  am  I  mad,"  said  Little  John  ;  "  and  if  thou 
wilt  come  with  me,  I  will  show  thee  this  fair  sight,  for  I  have  seen  it  with  mine 
own  eyes.  But  thou  must  come  alone,  good  master,  lest  the  others  frighten 
them  and  they  get  away." 

So  the  party  all  rode  forward,  and  Little  John  led  them  downward  into  the 
forest. 

"  Now,  good  master,"  quoth  he  at  last,  "we  are  nigh  where  I  saw  this  herd." 

Then  the  Sheriff  descended  from  his  horse  and  bade  them  wait  for  him  until 
he  should  return ;  and  Little  John  led  him  forward  through  a   Little  John 
close  copse  until  suddenly  they  came  to  a  great  open  glade,  at  the    ^kef iff  to  Robin 
end  of  which  Robin  Hood  sat  beneath  the  shade  of  the  great  oak    H°°d. 
tree,  with  his  merry  men  all  about  him.     "  See,  good  Master  Sheriff,"  quoth 
Little  John,  "yonder  is  the  hart  of  which  I  spake  to  thee." 

At  this  the  Sheriff  turned  to  Little  John,  and  said  bitterly,  "  Long  ago  I 
thought  I  remembered  thy  face,  but  now  I  know  thee.  Woe  betide  thee,  Lit 
tle  John,  for  thou  hast  betrayed  me  this  day." 

Then  Little  John  laughed  aloud.  "  Good  Master  Sheriff,"  said  he,  "  thou 
dost  indeed  know  me,  and  I  am  Little  John.  But  let  me  tell  thee,  all  this 
would  not  have  happened  had  not  thy  beggarly  Steward  starved  me,  and  had 
he  given  me  food  to  eat  when  I  asked  it.  But  if  he  gave  none  to  me,  the 
green  hart  will  give  thee  another  feast,  and  when  thou  goest  back,  tell  thy 
Steward  the  time  will  come  when  he  and  I  shall  have  a  reckoning." 

In  the  mean  time  Robin  Hood  had  come  to  them.  "  Now  welcome,  Master 
Sheriff,"  said  he.  "  Hast  thou  come  to-day  to  take  another  feast  with  me  ?  " 

"  Nay,  heaven  forbid !  "  said  the  Sheriff,  in  tones  of  deep  earnest.  "  I  care 
for  no  feast  and  have  no  hunger  to-day." 


76     HOW  LITTLE   JOHN  LIVED  AT  THE  SHERIFF'S  HOUSE. 

"  Nevertheless,"  quoth  Robin,  "  if  thou  hast  no  hunger,  maybe  thou  hast 
thirst,  and  well  I  know  thou  wilt  take  a  cup  of  sack  with  me.  But  I  am  grieved 
that  thou  wilt  not  feast  with  me,  for  thou  couldst  have  victuals  to  thy  liking, 
for  there  stands  thy  Cook." 

Then  he  led  the  Sheriff,  will-he-nill-he,  to  the  seat  he  knew  so  well  beneath 
the  greenwood  tree. 

"Ho,  lads  !"  cried  Robin,  "fill  our  good  friend,  the  Sheriff,  a  right  brimming 
cup  of  sack  and  fetch  it  hither,  for  he  is  faint  and  weary." 

Then  one  of  the  band  brought  the  Sheriff  a  cup  of  sack,  bowing  low  as  he 
handed  it  to  him  ;  but  the  Sheriff  could  not  touch  the  wine,  for  he  saw  it  served 
in  one  of  his  own  silver  flagons,  on  one  of  his  own  silver  plates. 

"  How  now,"  quoth  Robin,  "  dost  thou  not  like  our  new  silver  service  ?  We 
have  gotten  a  bag  of  it  this  day."  So  saying,  he  held  up  the  sack  of  silver  that 
Little  John  and  the  Cook  had  brought  with  them. 

Then  the  Sheriff's  heart  was  bitter  within  him  ;  but,  not  daring  to  say  any 
thing,  he  only  gazed  upon  the  ground.  Robin  looked  keenly  at  him  for  a  time 
before  he  spoke  again  ;  then  said  he,  "  Now,  Master  Sheriff,  the  last  time  thou 
earnest  to  Sherwood  Forest  thou  didst  come  seeking  to  despoil  a  poor  spend 
thrift,  and  thou  wert  despoiled  thine  own  self ;  but  now  thou  comest  seeking  to 
do  no  harm,  nor  do  I  know  that  thou  hast  despoiled  any  man.  I  take  my  tithes 
from  fat  priests  and  lordly  squires,  to  help  those  that  they  despoil  and  to  raise 
up  those  that  they  bow  down  ;  but  I  know  not  that  thou  hast  tenants  of  thine 
own  whom  thou  hast  wronged  in  any  way.  Therefore,  take  thou  thine  own 
again,  nor  will  I  dispossess  thee  to-day  of  so  much  as  one  farthing.  Come  with 
me,  and  I  will  lead  thee  from  the  forest  back  to  thine  own  party  again." 

Then,  slinging  the  bag  upon  his  shoulder,  he  turned  away,  the  Sheriff  follow 
ing  him,  all  too  perplexed  in  mind  to  speak.  So  they  went  forward  until  they 
came  to  within  a  furlong  of  the  spot  where  the  Sheriff's  companions  were  wait 
ing  for  him.  Then  Robin  Hood  gave  the  sack  of  silver  back  to  the  Sheriff. 
"  Take  thou  thine  own  again,"  he  said,  "  and,  hearken  to  me,  good  Sheriff,  take 
thou  a  piece  of  advice  with  it.  Try  thy  servants  well  ere  thou  dost  engage 
them  again  so  readily."  Then,  turning,  he  left  the  other  standing  bewildered, 
with  the  sack  in  his  hands. 

The  company  that  waited  for  the  Sheriff  were  all  amazed  to  see  him  come 
out  of  the  forest  bearing  a  heavy  sack  upon  his  shoulders  ;  but  though  they 
questioned  him,  he  answered  never  a  word,  acting  like  one  who  walks  in  a 
dream.  Without  a  word,  he  placed  the  bag  across  his  nag's  back,  and  then, 
mounting,  rode  away,  all  following  him  ;  but  all  the  time  there  was  a  great  tur 
moil  of  thoughts  within  his  head,  tumbling  one  over  the  other.  And  thus  ends 
the  merry  tale  of  Little  John  and  how  he  entered  the  Sheriff's  service. 


•  Little  -John- 
Arthvr-  a-  Bl  and:- 


Li  tile-  Johniknoweth-not- which-  Road-  to-  take  : 


PART  THIRD. 

Recounting  three  merry  adventures  that  befel  Robin  Hood  and  certain 
others,  by  which  he  gained  sore  bones  and  three  good  merry  men,  all 
in  one  day- 

* 


Little  John  and  the  Tanner  of  Blyth. 


T  often  comes  about  in  this  world  that  unlucky  hap 
penings  fall  upon  one  in  such  measure  that  it  seems, 
as  the  saying  is,  that  every  cat  that  one  strokes  flies 
into  one's  face.  Thus  it  was  with  Robin  Hood  and 
Little  John  one  bright  day  in  the  merry  Maytime  ; 
so  listen  and  you  shall  hear  how  Dame  Luck  so  buf 
feted  them  that  their  bones  were  sore  for  many  a  day 
thereafter. 


One  fine  day,  not  long  after  Little  John  had  left  abiding  with  the  Sheriff  and 
had  come  back,  with  his  worship's  cook,  to  the  merry  greenwood,  as  has  just 
been  told,  Robin  Hood  and  a  few  chosen  fellows  of  his  band  lay  upon  the  soft 
sward  beneath  the  greenwood  tree  where  they  dwelt.  The  day  was  warm  and 
sultry,  so  that  whilst  most  of  the  band  were  scattered  through  the  forest  upon 
this  mission  and  upon  that,  these  few  stout  fellows  lay  lazily  beneath  the  shade 
of  the  tree,  in  the  soft  afternoon,  passing  jests  among  themselves  and  telling 
merry  stories,  with  laughter  and  mirth. 

4.11  the  air  was  laden  with  the  bitter  fragrance  of  the  May,  and  all  the  bosky 


go  LITTLE   JOHN  AND   THE   TANNER   OF  BLYTH. 

shades  of  the  woodlands  beyond  rang  with  the  sweet  song  of  birds,  —  the  thros 
tle-cock,  the  cuckoo,  and  the  wood-pigeon,  —  and  with  the  song  of  birds  min 
gled  the  cool  sound  of  the  gurgling  brook  that  leaped  out  of  the  forest  shades, 
and  ran  fretting  amid  its  rough,  gray  stones  across  the  sunlit  open  glade  be 
fore  the  trysting-tree.  And  a  fair  sight  was  that  halfscore  of  tall,  stout  yeo 
men,  all  clad  in  Lincoln  green,  lying  beneath  the  broad-spreading  branches  of 
the  great  oak  tree,  amid  the  quivering  leaves  of  which  the  sunlight  shivered 
and  fell  in  dancing  patches  upon  the  grass. 

The  good  old  times  have  gone  by  when  such  men  grow  as  grew  then  ;  when 
sturdy  quarterstaff  and  long  bow  toughened  a  man's  thews  till  they  were  like 
leather.  Around  Robin  Hood  that  day  there  lay  the  very  flower  of  English 
yeomanrie.  Here  the  great  Little  John,  with  limbs  as  tough  as  the  gnarled 
oak,  yet  grown  somewhat  soft  from  good  living  at  the  Sheriff's  house  in  Not 
tingham  Town  ;  there  Will  Stutely,  his  face  as  brown  as  a  berry  from  sun  and 
wind,  but,  for  all  that,  the  comeliest  yeoman  in  the  midcountry,  only  excepting 
Allan  a  Dale,  the  minstrel,  of  whom  you  shall  hear  anon.  Beside  these  was 
Will  Scathelock,  as  lank  as  a  greyhound,  yet  as  fleet  of  foot  as  a  buck  of  three 
years'  growth ;  young  David  of  Doncaster,  with  great  stout  limbs  only  less 
than  those  of  Little  John  in  size,  the  tender  beard  of  early  youth  now  just 
feathering  his  chin,  and  others  of  great  renown  both  far  and  near. 

Suddenly  Robin  Hood  smote  his  knee. 

"  By  Saint  Dunstan,"  quoth  he,  "  I  had  nigh  forgot  that  quarter-day  cometh 
on  apace,  and  yet  no  cloth  of  Lincoln  green  in  all  our  store.  It  must  be  looked 
Robin  Hood  to,  and  that  in  quick  season.  Come,  busk  thee,  Little  John !  stir 
™0Chn  Because  of  those  lazy  bones  of  thine,  for  thou  must  get  thee  straightway  to 
kis  fatness.  our  good  gossip,  the  draper,  Hugh  Longshanks  of  Ancaster.  Bid 
him  send  us  straightway  twentyscore  yards  of  fair  cloth  of  Lincoln  green  ;  and 
mayhap  the  journey  may  take  some  of  the  fat  from  off  thy  bones,  that  thou 
hast  gotten  from  lazy  living  at  our  dear  Sheriff's." 

"  Nay,"  muttered  Little  John  (for  he  had  heard  so  much  upon  this  score 
Little  John  is  that  he  was  sore  upon  the  point),  "  nay,  truly,  mayhap  I  have 
g™eerds  RMnart'o  more  flesh  uPon  my  joints  than  I  once  had,  yet,  flesh  or  no  flesh, 
some  purpose.  \  doubt  not  that  I  could  still  hold"  my  place  and  footing  upon  a 
narrow  bridge  against  e'er  a  yeoman  in  Sherwood,  or  Nottinghamshire,  for  the 
matter  of  that,  even  though  he  had  no  more  fat  about  his  bones  than  thou 
hast,  good  master." 

At  this  reply  a  great  shout  of  laughter  went  up,  and  all  looked  at  Robin 
Hood,  for  each  man  knew  that  Little  John  spake  of  a  certain  fight  that  hap 
pened  between  their  master  and  himself,  through  which  they  first  became  ac 
quainted. 


LITTLE   JOHN  AND   THE   TANNER    OF  BLYTH.  8l 

"  Nay,"  quoth  Robin  Hood,  laughing  louder  than  all,  "  Heaven  forbid  that  I 
should  doubt  thee,  for  I  care  for  no  taste  of  thy  staff  myself,  Little  John.  I 
must  needs  own  that  there  are  those  of  my  band  can  handle  a  seven-foot  staff 
more  deftly  than  I ;  yet  no  man  in  all  Nottinghamshire  can  draw  gray-goose 
shaft  with  my  fingers.  Nevertheless,  a  journey  to  Ancaster  may  not  be  ill  for 
thee  ;  so  go  thou,  as  I  bid,  and  thou  hadst  best  go  this  very  evening,  for  since 
thou  hast  abided  at  the  Sheriff's  many  know  thy  face,  and  if  thou  Robin  oidsLittie 
goest  in  broad  daylight,  thou  mayst  get  thyself  into  a  coil  with  John  go  upon  a 

e   ,  .  i  •    i  -r-»  •  i       i  mission  to  the 

some  of  his  worship  s  men-at-arms.     Bide  thou  here  till  I  bring   Draper  of  An- 
thee  money  to  pay  our  good  Hugh.     I  warrant  he  hath  no  better    caster- 
customers  in  all  Nottinghamshire  than  we."     So  saying,  Robin  left  them  and 
entered  the  forest. 

Not  far  from  the  trysting  tree  was  a  great  rock  in  which  a  chamber  had 
been  hewn,  the  entrance  being  barred  by  a  massive  oaken  door  two  palms' 
breadth  in  thickness,  studded  about  with  spikes,  and  fastened  with  a  great  pad 
lock.  This  was  the  treasure-house  of  the  band,  and  thither  Robin  Hood  went, 
and,  unlocking  the  door,  entered  the  chamber,  from  which  he  brought  forth  a 
bag  of  gold,  which  he  gave  to  Little  John,  to  pay  Hugh  Longshanks  withal,  for 
the  cloth  of  Lincoln  green. 

Then  up  got  Little  John,  and,  taking  the  bag  of  gold,  which  he  thrust  into 
his  bosom,  he  strapped  a  girdle  about  his  loins,  took  a  stout  pike-  Little  John  sets 
staff  full  seven  feet  long  in  his  hand,  and  set  forth  upon  his  {°J.th  to  Ancas~ 
journey. 

So  he  strode  whistling  along  the  leafy  forest  path  that  led  to  Fosse  Way, 
turning  neither  to  the  right  hand  nor  the  left,  until  at  last  he  came  to  where  the 
path  branched,  leading  on  the  one  hand  onward  to  Fosse  Way,  and  on  the 
other,  as  well  Little  John  knew,  to  the  merry  Blue  Boar  Inn.  Here  Little 
John  suddenly  ceased  whistling,  and  stopped  in  the  middle  of  the  path.  First 
he  looked  up  and  then  he  looked  down,  and  then,  tilting  his  cap  over  one  eye, 
he  slowly  scratched  the  back  part  of  his  head.  For  thus  it  was :  at  the  sight 
of  these  two  roads,  two  voices  began  to  alarum  within  him,  the  one  crying, 
"  There  lies  the  road  to  the  Blue  Boar  Inn,  a  can  of  brown  October,  and  a 
merry  night  with  sweet  companions  such  as  thou  mayst  find  there ;  "  the  other, 
"  There  lies  the  way  to  Ancaster  and  the  duty  thou  art  sent  upon."  Now  the 
first  of  these  two  voices  was  far  the  louder,  for  Little  John  had  LMe  john 
grown  passing  fond  of  good  living  through  abiding  at  the  Sher-  ^yJf^ffL 
iff's  house  ;  so,  presently,  looking  up  into  the  blue  sky,  across  Ancaster,  and 
which  bright  clouds  were  sailing  like  silver  boats,  and  swallows  *%£*£**'* 
skimming  in  circling  flight,  quoth  he,  "  I  fear  me  it  will  rain  this 
evening,  so  I  '11  e'en  stop  at  the  Blue  Boar  till  it  passes  by,  for  I  know  my  good 
6 


82  LITTLE   JOHN  AND   THE   TANNER   OF  BLYTH. 

master  would  not  have  me  wet  to  the  skin."  So,  without  more  ado,  off  he  strode 
down  the  path  that  lay  the  way  of  his  likings.  Now  there  was  no  sign  of 
any  foul  weather,  but  when  one  wishes  to  do  a  thing,  as  Little  John  did,  one 
finds  no  lack  of  reasons  for  the  doing. 

Four  merry  wags  were  at  the  Blue  Boar  Inn ;  a  butcher,  a  beggar,  and  two 
barefoot  friars.  Little  John  heard  them  singing  from  afar,  as  he  walked  through 
the  hush  of  the  mellow  twilight  that  was  now  falling  over  hill  and  dale.  Right 
glad  were  they  to  welcome  such  a  merry  blade  as  Little  John.  Fresh  cans  of 
ale  were  brought,  and  with  jest  and  song  and  merry  tales  the  hours  slipped 
away  on  fleeting  wings.  None  thought  of  time  or  tide  till  the  night  was  so  far 
Little  John  gone  that  Little  John  put  by  the  thought  of  setting  forth  upon 
Bhu  Boor  /««  his  journey  again  that  night,  and  so  bided  at  the  Blue  Boar  Inn 
all  night.  until  the  morrow. 

Now  it  was  an  ill  piece  of  luck  for  Little  John  that  he  left  his  duty  for  his 
pleasure,  and  he  paid  a  great  score  for  it,  as  we  are  all  apt  to  do  in  the  same 
case,  as  you  shall  see. 

Up  he  rose  at  the  dawn  of  the  next  day,  and,  taking  his  stout  pikestaff  in  his 
hand,  he  set  forth  upon  his  journey  once  more,  as  though  he  would  make  up 
for  lost  time. 

In  the  good  town  of  Blyth  there  lived  a  stout  tanner,  celebrated  far  and  near 
for  feats  of  strength  and  many  tough  bouts  at  wrestling  and  the  quarterstaff . 
For  five  years  he  had  held  the  midcountry  champion  belt  for  wrestling,  till  the 
great  Adam  o'  Lincoln  cast  him  in  the  ring  and  broke  one  of  his  ribs  ;  but  at 
quarterstaff  he  had  never  yet  met  his  match  in  all  the  country  about.  Beside 
all  this,  he  dearly  loved  the  long  bow,  and  a  sly  jaunt  in  the  forest  when  the 
moon  was  full  and  the  dun  deer  in  season  ;  so  that  the  King's  rangers  kept  a 
shrewd  eye  upon  him  and  his  doings,  for  Arthur  a  Bland's  house  was  apt  to 
have  a  plenty  of  meat  in  it  that  was  more  like  venison  than  the  law  allowed. 

Now  Arthur  had  been  to  Nottingham  Town  the  day  before  Little  John  set 
Arthur  a  Bland  forth  on  his  errand,  there  to  sell  a  half  score  of  tanned  cowhides. 

SM,tt{nrSam°m      At   the    daWn    °f   the    Same   dsLY  that    Little   J°hn    left   the    iim'  he 

Town  for  Blyth.  started  from  Nottingham,  homeward  for  Blyth.  His  way  led,  all 
in  the  dewy  morn,  past  the  verge  of  Sherwood  Forest,  where  the  birds  were 
welcoming  the  lovely  day  with  a  great  and  merry  jubilee.  Across  the  Tanner's 
shoulders  was  slung  his  stout  quarterstaff,  ever  near  enough  to  him  to  be 
gripped  quickly,  and  on  his  head  was  a  cap  of  doubled  cowhide,  so  tough  that 
it  could  hardly  be  cloven  even  by  a  broadsword. 

"  Now,"  quoth  Arthur  a  Bland  to  himself,  when  he  had  come  to  that  part  of 
the  road  that  cut  through  a  corner  of  the  forest,  "  no  doubt  at  this  time  of  year 


LITTLE   JOHN  AND   THE   TANNER   OF  BLYTH.  83 

the  dun  deer  are  coming  from  the  forest  depths  nigher  to  the  open  meadow 
lands.  Mayhap  I  may  chance  to  catch  a  sight  of  the  idainty  brown  darlings 
thus  early  in  the  morn."  For  there  was  nothing  he  loved  better 

,      ,  .......  ,  ,     He  thinks  to 

than  to  look  upon  a  tripping  herd  of  deer,  even  when  he  could   catch  a  sight  of 
not  tickle  their  ribs  with  a  clothyard  shaft.    Accordingly,  quitting    the  dun  deer' 
the  path,  he  went  peeping  this  way  and  that  through  the  underbrush,  spying 
now  here  and  now  there,  with  all  the  wiles  of  a  master  of  woodcraft,  and  of  one 
who  had  more  than  once  donned  a  doublet  of  Lincoln  green. 

Now  as  Little  John  stepped  blithely  along,  thinking  of  nothing  but  of  such 
things  as  the  sweetness  of  the  hawthorn  buds  that  bedecked  the  hedgerows,  or 
the  crab-trees  that  stood  here  and  there  all  covered  with  fair  pink  blossoms,  or 
gazing  upward  at  the  lark,  that,  springing  from  the  dewy  grass,  hung  aloft  on 
quivering  wings  in  the  yellow  sunlight,  pouring  forth  its  song  that  fell  like  a 
falling  star  from  the  sky,  his  luck  led  him  away  from  the  highway,  not  far  from 
the  spot  where  Arthur  a  Bland  was  peeping  this  way  and  that  Little  john  seeth 
through  the  leaves  of  the  thickets.  Hearing  a  rustling  of  the  Arthur  a  Bland 

T.1T,  ,  ,  .         .    .          ,     .         in  the  thickets. 

branches,  Little  John  stopped,  and  presently  caught  sight  of  the 
brown  cowhide  cap  of  the  Tanner  moving  amongst  the  bushes. 

"  I  do  much  wonder,"  quoth  Little  John  to  himself,  "what  yon  knave  is  after, 
that  he  should  go  thus  peeping  and  peering  about.  I  verily  believe  that  yon 
scurvy  varlet  is  no  better  than  a  thief,  and  cometh  here  after  our  own  and  the 
good  King's  dun  deer."  For  by  much  roving  in  the  forest,  Little  John  had 
come  to  look  upon  all  the  deer  in  Sherwood  as  belonging  to  Robin  Hood  and 
his  band  as  much  as  to  good  King  Harry.  "Nay,"  quoth  he  again,  after  a 
time,  "  this  matter  must  e'en  be  looked  into."  So,  quitting  the  high-road,  he 
also  entered  the  thickets,  and  began  spying  around  after  stout  Arthur  a  Bland. 

So  for  a  long  time  they  both  of  them  went  hunting  about,  Little  John  after 
the  Tanner,  and  the  Tanner  after  the  deer.  At  last  Little  John  trod  upon  a 
stick,  which  snapped  under  his  foot,  whereupon,  hearing  the  noise,  the  Tanner 
turned  quickly  and  caught  sight  of  the  yeoman.  Seeing  that  the  Tanner  had 
spied  him  out,  Little  John  put  a  bold  face  upon  the  matter. 

"  Hilloa,"  quoth  he,  "  what  art  thou  doing  here,  thou  naughty  fellow  ?  Who 
art  thou  that  comest  ranging  Sherwood's  paths  ?  In  very  sooth  Little  yohn  bid, 
thou  hast  an  evil  cast  of  countenance,  and  I  do  think,  truly,  deth  Arthur  a 

.  J ,     Bland  to  stand. 

that  thou  art  no  better  than  a  thief,  and  comest  after  our  good 
King's  deer." 

"  Nay,"  quoth  the  Tanner  boldly,  —  for,  though  taken  by  surprise,  he  was 
not  a  man  to  be  frightened  by  big  words,  —  "  thou  liest  in  thy  teeth.  I  am  no 
thief,  but  an  honest  craftsman.  As  for  my  countenance,  it  is  what  it  is  ;  and, 
for  the  matter  of  that,  thine  own  is  none  too  pretty,  thou  saucy  fellow." 


84  LITTLE   JOHN  AND    THE   TANNER    OF  BL  YTH. 

"  Ha  !  "  quoth  Little  John,  in  a  great  loud  voice,  "  wouldst  thou  give  me 
back-talk  ?  Now  I  have  a  great  part  of  a  mind  to  crack  thy  pate  for  thee.  I 
would  have  thee  know,  fellow,  that  I  am,  as  it  were,  one  of  the  King's  forest 
ers.  Leastwise,"  muttered  he  to  himself,  "  I  and  my  friends  do  take  good  care 
of  our  good  sovereign's  deer." 

Arthur  a  Bland       "*  care  not  wno  tnou  art>"  answered  the  bold  Tanner,  "and 
defies  Little          unless  thou  hast  many  more  of  thy  kind  by  thee,  thou  canst  never 
make  Arthur  a  Bland  cry  '  A  mercy.'  ' 

"Is  it  so?"  cried  Little  John,  in  a  rage.  "  Now,  by  my  faith,  thou  saucy 
rogue,  thy  tongue  hath  led  thee  into  a  pit  thou  wilt  have  a  sorry  time  getting 
out  of  ;  for  I  will  give  thee  such  a  drubbing  as  ne'er  hast  thou  had  in  all  thy 
life  before.  Take  thy  staff  in  thy  hand,  fellow,  for  I  will  not  smite  an  unarmed 
man." 

"  Marry  come  up  with  a  murrain  !  "  cried  the  Tanner,  for  he,  too,  had  talked 
himself  into  a  fume.  "  Big  words  ne'er  killed  so  much  as  a  mouse.  Who  art 
thou  that  talkest  so  freely  of  cracking  the  head  of  Arthur  a  Bland  ?  If  I  do 
not  tan  thy  hide  this  day  as  ne'er  I  tanned  a  calf's  hide  in  all  my  life  before, 
split  my  staff  into  skewers  for  lamb's  flesh  and  call  me  no  more  brave  man  ! 
Now  look  to  thyself,  fellow  !  " 

"  Stay  !  "  said  Little  John  ;  "  let  us  first  measure  our  cudgels.  I  do  reckon 
my  staff  longer  than  thine,  and  I  would  not  take  vantage  of  thee  by  even  so 
much  as  an  inch." 

"Nay,  I  pass  not  for  length,"  answered  the  Tanner.  "My  staff  is  long 
Little  John  and  enough  to  knock  down  a  calf  ;  so  look  to  thyself,  fellow,  I  say 

Arthur  a  Bland    oo-oin  " 
make  ready  to        ^S^1"- 

fight.  So,  without  more  ado,  each  gripped  his  staff  in  the  middle,  and, 

with  fell  and  angry  looks,  they  came  slowly  together. 

Now  news  had  been  brought  to  Robin  Hood  how  that  Little  John,  instead  of 

doing  his  bidding,  had  passed  by  duty  for  pleasure,  and  so  had  stopped  over  night 

with  merry  company  at  the  Blue  Boar  Inn,  instead  of  going  straight  to  Ancas- 

ter.     So,  being  vexed  to  his  heart  by  this,  he  set  forth  at  dawn  of 

Robin  Hood  sets  °  J    - 

forth  to  meet      day  to  seek  Little  John  at  the  Blue  Boar,  or  at  least  to  meet  the 
veoman  on  tne  wav>  and  ease  his  heart  of  what  he  thought  of  the 


inn,  to  chide  matter.  As  thus  he  strode  along  in  anger,  putting  together  the 
words  he  would  use  to  chide  Little  John,  he  heard,  of  a  sudden, 
loud  and  angry  voices,  as  of  men  in  a  rage,  passing  fell  words  back  and  forth 
He  hears  voices  from  one  to  the  other.  At  this,  Robin  Hood  stopped  and  listened. 
in  the  thicket.  "Surely,"  quoth  he  to  himself,  "that  is  Little  John's  voice,  and 
he  is  talking  in  anger  also.  Methinks  the  other  is  strange  to  my  ears.  Now 


LITTLE   JOHN  AND    THE   TANNER   OF  BLYTH.  85 

Heaven  forfend  that  my  good  trusty  Little  John  should  have  fallen  into  the 
hands  of  the   King's  rangers.     I  must  see  to  this  matter,  and  that  quickly." 

Thus  spoke  Robin  Hood  to  himself,  all  his  anger  passing  away  like  a  breath 
from  the  window-pane,  at  the  thought  that  perhaps  his  trusty  right-hand  man 
was  in  some  danger  of  his  life.  So  ^cautiously  he  made  his  way  Hg  seeth  Little 
through  the  thickets  whence  the  voices  came,  and,  pushing  aside  John  and  Ar- 

.        .  ,    .     ,       .,        T..I  .  ,  thur  a   Bland 

the  leaves,  peeped  into  the  little  open  space  where  the  two  men,    making  ready  to 
staff  in  hand,  were  coming  slowly  together.  fiskt- 

"Ha!"  quoth  Robin  to  himself,  "here  is  merry  sport  afoot.  Now  I  would 
give  three  golden  angels  from  my  own  pocket  if  yon  stout  fellow  would  give 
Little  John  a  right  sound  drubbing  !  It  would  please  me  to  see  him  well 
thumped  for  having  failed  in  my  bidding.  I  fear  me,  though,  there  is  but  poor 
chance  of  my  seeing  such  a  pleasant  sight."  So  saying,  he  stretched  himself 
at  length  upon  the  ground,  that  he  might  not  only  see  the  sport  the  better,  but 
that  he  might  enjoy  the  merry  sight  at  his  ease. 

As  you  may  have  seen  two  dogs  that  think  to  fight,  walking  slowly  round 
and  round  each  other,  neither  cur  wishing  to  begin  the  combat,  so  Little  ~ohn  and 
those  two  stout  yeomen  moved  slowly  around,  each  watching  for  Arthur  a  Bland 
a  chance  to  take  the  other  unaware,  and  so  get  in  the  first  blow. 
At  last  Little  John  struck  like  a  flash,  and,  "  rap,"  the  Tanner  met  the  blow 
and  turned  it  aside,  and  then  smote  back  at  Little  John,  who  also  turned  the 
blow  ;  and  so  this  mighty  battle  began.  Then  up  and  down  and  back  and  forth 
they  trod,  the  blows  falling  so  thick  and  fast  that,  at  a  distance,  one  would  have 
thought  that  half  a  score  of  men  were  fighting.  Thus  they  fought  for  nigh  a 
half  an  hour,  until  the  ground  was  all  ploughed  up  with  the  digging  of  their 
heels,  and  their  breathing  grew  labored  like  the  ox  in  the  furrow.  But  Little 
John  suffered  the  most,  for  he  had  become  unused  to  such  stiff  labor,  and  his 
joints  were  not  as  supple  as  they  had  been  before  he  went  to  dwell  with  the 
Sheriff. 

All  this  time  Robin  Hood  lay  beneath  the  bush,  rejoicing  at  such  a  comely 
bout  of  quarterstaff.  "  By  my  faith  ! "  quoth  he  to  himself,  "  never  had  I 
thought  to  see  Little  John  so  evenly  matched  in  all  my  life.  Belike,  though,  he 
would  have  overcome  yon  stout  fellow  before  this  had  he  been  in  his  former 
trim." 

At  last  Little  John  saw  his  chance,  and,  throwing  all  the  strength  he  felt 
going  from  him  into  one  blow  that  might  have  felled  an  ox,  he  struck  at  the 
Tanner  with  might  and  main.  And  now  did  the  Tanner's  cowhide  cap  stand 
him  in  good  stead,  and  but  for  it  he  might  never  have  held  staff  in  hand  again. 
As  it  was,  the  blow  he  caught  beside  the  head  was  so  shrewd  that  it  sent  him 
staggering  across  the  little  glade,  so  that,  if  Little  John  had  had  the  strength  to 


86  LITTLE   JOHN  AND   THE   TANNER   OF  BL  YTH. 

follow  up  his  vantage,  it  would  have  been  ill  for  stout  Arthur.  But  he  regained 
Arthur  a  Bland  himself  quickly,  and,  at  arm's  length,  struck  back  a  blow  at  Little 
Sjohnto tke  Jonn>  and  this  time  the  stroke  reached  its  mark,  and  down  went 
grass.  Little  John  at  full  length,  his  cudgel  flying  from  his  hand  as  he 

fell.  Then,  raising  his  staff,  stout  Arthur  dealt  him  another  blow  upon  the 
ribs. 

"  Hold  ! "  roared  Little  John.  "  Wouldst  thou  strike  a  man  when  he  is 
down  ? " 

"  Ay,  marry  would  I,"  quoth  the  Tanner,  giving  him  another  thwack  with 
his  staff. 

"  Stop  !  "  roared  Little  John.  "  Help  !  hold,  I  say  !  I  yield  me  !  I  yield  me, 
I  say,  good  fellow  !  " 

"  Hast  thou  had  enough?"  asked  the  Tanner,  grimly,  holding  his  staff  aloft. 

"  Ay,  marry,  and  more  than  enough." 

"  And  thou  dost  own  that  I  am  the  better  man  of  the  two  ? " 
Little  John  "  Yea,  truly,  and  a  murrain  seize  thee  !  "  said  Little  John,  the 

toArttutra         first  aloud  and  the  last  to  his  beard. 

Bland'  "  Then  thou  mayst   go  thy  ways  ;  and  thank  thy  patron  saint 

that  I  am  a  merciful  man,"  said  the  Tanner. 

"A  plague  o'  such  mercy  as  thine  !"  said  Little  John,  sitting  up  and  feeling 
his  ribs  where  the  Tanner  had  cudgelled  him.  "  I  make  my  vow,  my  ribs  feel 
as  though  every  one  of  them  were  broken  in  twain.  I  tell  thee,  good  fellow,  I 
did  think  there  was  never  a  man  in  all  Nottinghamshire  could  do  to  me  what 
thou  hast  done  this  day." 

"  And  so  thought  I,  also,"  cried  Robin  Hood,  bursting  out  of  the  thicket 
and  shouting  with  laughter  till  the  tears  ran  down  his  cheeks.  "O  man, 
man  ! "  said  he,  as  well  as  he  could  for  his  mirth,  "  'a  didst  go  over  like  a  bottle 
knocked  from  a  wall.  I  did  see  the  whole  merry  bout,  and  never  did  I  think 
Robin  Hood  gall-  to  see  thee  yield  thyself  so,  hand  and  foot,  to  any  man  in  all 
'by j^tinl  at°hhis  merrv  England.  I  was  seeking  thee,  to  chide  thee  for  leaving 
mishap.  my  bidding  undone ;  but  thou  hast  been  paid  all  I  owed  thee,  full 

measure,  pressed  down  and  overflowing,  by  this  good  fellow.  Marry,  'a  did 
reach  out  his  arm  full  length  whilst  thou  stood  gaping  at  him,  and,  with  a  pretty 
rap,  tumbled  thee  over  as  never  have  I  seen  one  tumbled  before."  So  spoke 
bold  Robin,  and  all  the  time  Little  John  sat  upon  the  ground,  looking  as  though 
he  had  sour  curds  in  his  mouth.  "  What  may  be  thy  name,  good  fellow  ?  " 
said  Robin,  next,  turning  to  the  Tanner. 

"  Men  do  call  me  Arthur  a  Bland,"  spoke  up  the  Tanner,  boldly  ;  "  and  now 
what  may  be  thy  name  ?  " 

"  Ha,  Arthur  a  Bland  ! "  quoth  Robin,  "  I  have  heard  thy  name  before,  good 


LITTLE   JOHN  AND   THE   TANNER   OF  BL  YTH.  87 

fellow.  Thou  didst  break  the  crown  of  a  friend  of  mine  at  the  fair  at  Ely  last 
October.  The  folk  there  call  him  Jock  o'  Nottingham  ;  we  call  him  Will 
Scathelock.  This  poor  fellow  whom  thou  hast  so  belabored  is  counted  the  best 
hand  at  the  quarterstaff  in  all  merry  England.  His  name  is  Little  John,  and 
mine  Robin  Hood." 

"  How  !  "  cried  the  Tanner,  "art  thou  indeed  the  great  Robin  Hood,  and  is 
this  the  famous  Little  John  ?  Marry,  had  I  known  who  thou  art,  I  would  never 
have  been  so  bold  as  to  lift  my  hand  against  thee.  Let  me  help  thee  to  thy 
feet,  good  Master  Little  John,  and  let  me  brush  the  dust  from  off  thy  coat." 

"  Nay,"  quoth  Little  John,  testily,  at  the  same  time  rising  carefully,  as  though 
his  bones  had  been  made  of  glass,  "  I  can  help  myself,  good  fellow,  without  thy 
aid  ;  and,  let  me  tell  thee,  had  it  not  been  for  that  vile  cowskin  cap  of  thine, 
it  would  have  been  ill  for  thee  this  day." 

At  this  Robin  laughed  again,  and,  turning  to  the  Tanner,  he  said,  "  Wilt 
thou  join  my  band,  good  Arthur  ?  for  I  make  my  vow  thou  art  one  of  the  stout 
est  men  that  ever  mine  eyes  beheld." 

"Will  I  join  thy  band?"  cried  the  Tanner,  joyfully ;  "ay,  marry,  will  I! 
Hey  for  a  merry  life!"  cried  he,  leaping  aloft  and  snapping  his  Arthur  a  Bland 
fingers,  "  and  hey  for  the  life  I  love !  Away  with  tanbark  and  j™J$J  SnFof 
filthy  vats  and  foul  cowhides !  I  will  follow  thee  to  the  ends  of  merry  men. 
the  earth,  good  master,  and  not  a  herd  of  dun  deer  in  all  the  forest  but  shall 
know  the  sound  of  the  twang  of  my  bowstring." 

"  As  for  thee,  Little  John,"  said  Robin,  turning  to  him  and  laughing,  "  thou 
wilt  start  once  more  for  Ancaster,  and  we  will  go  part  way  with  thee,  for  I  will 
not  have  thee  turn  again  to  either  the  right  hand  or  the  left  till  thou  hast  fairly 
gotten  away  from  Sherwood.  There  are  other  inns  that  thou  knowest  yet, 
hereabouts."  Thereupon,  leaving  the  thickets,  they  took  once  more  to  the 
highway,  and  departed  upon  their  business. 


II. 

Robin   Hood  and  Will  Scarlet. 

r  I  ^HUS  they  travelled  along  the  sunny  road,  three  stout  fellows  such  as  you 
could  hardly  match  anywhere  else  in  all  merry  England.  Many  stopped 
to  gaze  after  them  as  they  strode  along,  so  broad  were  their  shoulders 

and  so  sturdy  their  gait. 

Quoth  Robin  Hood  to  Little  John,  "  Why  didst  thou  not  go  straight  to  An- 

Robin  Hood,  Lit-    caster,  yesterday,  as  I  told  thee  ?     Thou  hadst  not  gotten  thyself 

tie  John,  and      jnto  such  a  coij  hadst  thou  done  as  I  ordered." 

Arthur  a  Bland 

travel  onward          "  1  feared  the  ram  that  threatened,"  said  Little  John  in  a  sullen 

together,  talking.  £Qr  h 


chafed  by  Robjn  with  what  had 

happened  to  him. 

"  The  rain  !  "  cried  Robin,  stopping  of  a  sudden  in  the  middle  of  the  road, 
and  looking  at  Little  John  in  wonder.  "  Why,  thou  great  oaf  !  not  a  drop  of 
rain  has  fallen  these  three  days,  neither  has  any  threatened,  nor  hath  there 
been  a  sign  of  foul  weather  in  earth  or  sky  or  water." 

"  Nevertheless,"  growled  Little  John,  "  the  holy  Saint  Swithin  holdeth  the 
waters  of  the  heavens  in  his  pewter  pot,  and  he  could  have  poured  them  out, 
had  he  chosen,  even  from  a  clear  sky  ;  and  wouldst  thou  have  had  me  wet  to 
the  skin?" 

At  this  Robin  Hood  burst  into  a  roar  of  laughter.  "  O  Little  John  !  "  said 
he,  "  what  butter  wits  hast  thou  in  that  head  of  thine  !  Who  could  hold  anger 
against  such  a  one  as  thou  art  ?  " 

So  saying,  they  all  stepped  out  once  more,  with  the  right  foot  foremost,  as 
the  saying  is. 

After  they  had  travelled  some  distance,  the  day  being  warm  and  the  road 

dusty,   Robin    Hood  waxed  thirsty  ;    so,   there  being  a  fountain  of  water  as 

cold  as  ice,  just  behind  the  hedgerow,  they  crossed  the  stile  and 

The  three  yeo-  J  '          J 

men,  growing  came  to  where  the  water  bubbled  up  from  beneath  a  mossy  stone. 
^ne'ath  7he  shade,  Here,  kneeling  and  making  cups  of  the  palms  of  their  hands, 
nigh  to  the  high-  they  drank  their  fill,  and  then,  the  spot  being  cool  and  shady, 

they  stretched  their  limbs  and  rested  them  for  a  space. 

In  front  of  them,  over  beyond  the  hedge,  the  dusty  road  stretched  away 
across  the  plain  ;  behind  them  the  meadow  lands  and  bright  green  fields  of 


ROBIN  HOOD  AND    WILL  SCARLET.  89 

tender  young  corn  lay  broadly  in  the  sun,  and  overhead  spread  the  shade  of  the 
cool,  rustling  leaves  of  the  beechen  tree.  Pleasantly  to  their  nostrils  came  the 
tender  fragrance  of  the  purple  violets  and  wild  thyme  that  grew  within  the 
dewy  moisture  of  the  edge  of  the  little  fountain,  and  pleasantly  came  the  soft 
gurgle  of  the  water ;  all  else  was  sunny  silence,  broken  only  now  and  then  by 
the  crow  of  a  distant  cock,  borne  up  to  them  on  the  wings  of  the  soft  and  gen 
tle  breeze,  or  the  drowsy  drone  of  the  humble-bee  burrowing  in  the  clover  blos 
soms  that  grew  in  the  sun,  or  the  voice  of  the  busy  housewife  in  the  nearest 
farmhouse.  All  was  so  pleasant  and  so  full  of  the  gentle  joy  of  the  bright 
Maytime,  that  for  a  long  time  neither  of  the  three  cared  to  speak,  but  each  lay 
on  his  back,  gazing  up  through  the  trembling  leaves  of  the  trees  to  the  bright 
sky  overhead.  At  last,  Robin,  whose  thoughts  were  not  quite  so  busy  wool 
gathering  as  those  of  the  others,  and  who  had  been  gazing  around  him  now  and 
then,  broke  the  silence. 

"  Heyday  !  "  quoth  he,  "  yon  is  a  gayly-feathered  bird,  I  take  my  vow." 
The  others  looked  and  saw  a  young  man  walking  slowly  down  the  highway. 
Gay  was  he,  indeed,  as  Robin  had  said,  and  a  fine  figure  he  cut,    Robin  seeth  a 
for  his  doublet  was  of  scarlet  silk  and  his  stockings  also  ;  a  hand-    stranger  clad  in 

scarlet. 

some  sword  hung  by  his  side,  the  embossed  leathern  scabbard 
being  picked  out  with  fine  threads  of  gold  ;  his  cap  was  of  scarlet  velvet,  and  a 
broad  feather  hung  down  behind  and  back  of  one  ear.     His  hair  was  long  and 
yellow  and  curled  upon  his  shoulders,  and  in  his  hand  he  bore  an  early  rose, 
which  he  smelt  at  daintily  now  and  then. 

"By  my  life!"  quoth  Robin  Hood,  laughing,  "saw  ye  e'er  such  a  pretty, 
mincing  fellow  ? " 

"  Truly,  his  clothes  have  overmuch  prettiness  for  my  taste,"  quoth  Arthur  a 
Bland  ;  "  but,  ne'ertheless,  his  shoulders  are  broad  and  his  loins  are  narrow, 
and  seest  thou,  good  master,  how  that  his  arms  hang  from  his  body  ?  They 
dangle  not  down  like  spindles,  but  hang  stiff  and  bend  at  the  elbow.  I  take 
my  vow,  there  be  no  bread  and  milk  limbs  in  those  fine  clothes,  but  stiff  joints 
and  tough  thews." 

"  Methinks  thou  art  right,  friend  Arthur,"  said  Little  John.  "  I  do  verily 
think  that  yon  is  no  such  rose-leaf  and  whipped-cream  gallant  as  he  would  have 
one  take  him  to  be." 

"  Pah  ! "  quoth  Robin  Hood,  "  the  sight  of  such  a  fellow  doth  put  a  nasty 
taste  into  my  mouth !  Look  how  he  doth  hold  that  fair  flower  betwixt  his 
thumb  and  finger,  as  he  would  say,  '  Good  rose,  I  like  thee  not  so  ill  but  I  can 
bear  thy  odor  for  a  little  while.'  I  take  it  ye  are  both  wrong,  and  verily  be 
lieve  that  were  a  furious  mouse  to  run  across  his  path,  he  would  cry,  'La!'  or 
'  Alack-a-day ! '  and  fall  straightway  into  a  swoon.  I  wonder  who  he  may  be." 


90  ROBIN  HOOD  AND    WILL   SCARLET. 

"Some  great  baron's  son,  I  doubt  not,"  answered  Little  John,  "with  good 
and  true  men's  money  lining  his  purse." 

"Ay,  marry,  that  is  true,  I  make  no  doubt,"  quoth  Robin.  "What  a  pity 
that  such  men  as  he,  that  have  no  thought  but  to  go  abroad  in  gay  clothes, 
should  have  good  fellows,  whose  shoes  they  are  not  fit  to  tie,  dancing  at  their 
bidding.  By  Saint  Dunstan,  Saint  Alfred,  Saint  Withold,  and  all  the  good 
men  in  the  Saxon  calendar,  it  doth  make  me  mad  to  see  such  gay  lordlings 
from  over  the  sea  go  stepping  on  the  necks  of  good  Saxons  who  owned  this 
land  before  ever  their  great-grandsires  chewed  rind  of  brawn  !  By  the  bright 
bow  of  Heaven,  I  will  have  their  ill-gotten  gains  from  them,  even  though  I 
hang  for  it  as  high  as  e'er  a  forest  tree  in  Sherwood  !  " 

"  Why,  how  now,  master,"  quoth  Little  John,  "  what  heat  is  this  ?  Thou 
dost  set  thy  pot  a-boiling,  and  mayhap  no  bacon  to  cook  !  Methinks  yon  fel 
low's  hair  is  over  light  for  Norman  locks.  He  may  be  a  good  man  and  true  for 
aught  thou  knowest." 

"Nay,"  said  Robin,  "my  head  against  a  leaden  farthing,  he  is  what  I  say. 
Whenever  saw  ye  Saxon  mince  along  like  that,  as  though  he  feared  to  muddy 
the  toes  of  his  shoes  ?  At  least,  I  will  go  forth  and  stop  him,  and  see  whether 
his  purse  be  free  of  foul  money.  If  I  am  wrong,  then  he  may  go  forward  upon 
his  journey  without  the  loss  of  so  much  as  a  groat ;  but  if  I  am  right,  I  will 
pluck  him  as  close  as  ever  a  goose  was  plucked  for  live  feathers  in  midsummer. 
Thou  sayst  he  is  a  sturdy  fellow,  Little  John.  Lie  thou  here  and  watch  till  I 
show  thee  how  woodland  life  toughens  a  man,  as  easy  living,  such 

Robin  Hood  go-  r  i  i  7  •        i  r*i-i 

eth  forth  to  show   as  thine  hath  been  of  late,  drags  him  down.     So,  he  ye  both  here, 

LArtjJr°aBland  l  say»  tiu  l  show  You  how  l  drub  this  fellow."  So  saying,  Robin 
how  to  use  the  Hood  stepped  forth  from  the  shade  of  the  beech  tree,  crossed  the 
stile,  and  stood  in  the  middle  of  the  road,  with  his  hands  on  his 
hips,  in  the  stranger's  path. 

Meantime  the  stranger,  who  had  been  walking  so  slowly  that  all  this  talk 
was  held  before  he  came  opposite  the  place  where  they  were,  neither  quickened 
his  pace  nor  seemed  to  see  that  such  a  man  as  Robin  Hood  was  in  the  world. 
So  Robin  stood  in  the  middle  of  the  road,  waiting  while  the  other  walked  slowly 
forward,  smelling  his  rose,  and  looking  this  way  and  that,  and  everywhere  ex 
cept  at  Robin. 

"  Hold ! "  cried    Robin,  when   at   last   the   other   had   come  close   to   him. 

Robin  Hood  bid-     "  Hold  !   Stand  where  th°U  art  !  " 

detk  the  stranger        "Wherefore  should  I  hold,  good  fellow?"  said  the  stranger  in 
soft  and  gentle  voice ;  "  and  wherefore  should   I  stand  where  I 
am  ?     Ne'ertheless,  as  thou  dost  desire  that  I  should  stay,  I  will  abide  for  a 
short  time,  that  I  may  hear  what  thou  mayst  have  to  say  to  me." 


Stranger* 


ROBIN  HOOD  AND    WILL  SCARLET.  93 

"Then,"  quoth  Robin,  "as  thou  dost  so  fairly  do  as  I  tell  thee,  and  dost  give 
me  such  soft  speech,  I  will  also  treat  thee  with  all  due  courtesy.  I  would  have 
thee  know,  fair  friend,  that  I  am,  as  it  were,  a  votary  at  the  shrine  of  Saint 
Wilfred,  who,  thou  mayst  know,  took,  willy-nilly,  all  their  gold  from  the 
heathen,  and  melted  it  up  into  candlesticks.  Wherefore,  upon  such  as  come 
hereabouts,  I  levy  a  certain  toll,  which  I  use  for  a  better  purpose,  I  hope,  than  to 
make  candlesticks  withal.  Therefore,  sweet  chuck,  I  would  have  thee  deliver 
to  me  thy  purse,  that  I  may  look  into  it,  and  judge,  to  the  best  of  my  poor 
powers,  whether  thou  hast  more  wealth  about  thee  than  our  law  allows.  For, 
as  our  good  Gaffer  Swanthold  sayeth,  '  He  who  is  fat  from  overliving  must 
needs  lose  blood.'  " 

All  this  time  the  youth  had  been  sniffing  at  the  rose  that  he  held  betwixt 
his  thumb  and  finger.  "  Nay,"  said  he  with  a  gentle  smile,  when  Robin  Hood 
had  done,  "  I  do  love  to  hear  thee  talk,  thou  pretty  fellow,  and  if,  haply,  thou 
art  not  yet  done,  finish,  I  beseech  thee.  I  have  yet  some  little  time  to  stay." 

"  I  have  said  all,"  quoth  Robin  ;  "  and  now,  if  thou  wilt  give  me  thy  purse,  I 
will  let  thee  go  thy  way  without  let  or  hindrance  so  soon  as  I  shall  see  what 
it  may  hold.  I  will  take  none  from  thee  if  thou  hast  but  little." 

"  Alas  !  it  doth  grieve  me  much,"  said  the  other,  "  that  I  cannot  do  as  thou 
dost  wish.  I  have  nothing  to  give  thee.  Let  me  go  my  way,  I  prythee.  I 
have  done  thee  no  harm." 

"  Nay,  thou  goest  not,"  quoth  Robin,  "  till  tho.u  hast  shown  me   jfe  wili  not  iet 

thy  purse."  the  stranger  go. 

"  Good  friend,"  said  the  other,  gently,  "  I  have  business  elsewhere.  I  have 
given  thee  much  time  and  have  heard  thee  patiently.  Prythee,  let  me  now  de 
part  in  peace." 

"  I  have  spoken  to  thee,  friend,"  said  Robin,  sternly,  "  and  I  now  tell  thee 
again,  that  thou  goest  not  one  step  forward  till  thou  hast  done  as  I  bid  thee." 
So  saying,  he  raised  his  quarterstaff  above  his  head  in  a  threatening  way. 

"Alas!"  said  the  stranger,  sadly,  "it  doth  grieve  me  that  this  thing  must 
be.  I  fear  much  that  I  must  slay  thee,  thou  poor  fellow  !  "  So  saying,  he  drew 
his  sword. 

"  Put  by  thy  weapon,"  quoth  Robin  ;  "  I  would  take  no  vantage  of  thee. ' 
Thy  sword  cannot  stand  against  an  oaken  staff  such  as  mine.     I  could  snap  it 
like  a  barley  straw.     Yonder  is  a  good  oaken  thicket  by  the  roadside  ;  take 
thee  a  cudgel  thence  and  defend  thyself  fairly,  if  thou  hast  a  taste  for  a  sound 
drubbing." 

First  the  stranger  measured  Robin  with  his  eye,  and  then  he  measured  the 
oaken  staff.  "  Thou  art  right,  good  fellow,"  said  he  presently  ;  "  truly,  my 
sword  is  no  match  for  that  cudgel  of  thine.  Bide  thee  a  while  till  I  get  me  a 


94  ROBIN  HOOD  AND    WILL   SCARLET. 

staff.     So  saying,  he  threw  aside  the  rose  that  he  had  been  holding  all  this 

time,  thrust  his  sword  back  into  the  scabbard,  and,  with  a  more  hasty  step  than 

he  had  yet  used,  stepped  to  the  roadside  where  grew  the  little  clump  of  ground 

oaks  Robin  had  spoken  of.     Choosing  among  them,  he  presently 

The  stranger  in  ......  J 

scarlet  taketh  a    found  a  sapling  to  his  liking.     He  did  not  cut  it,  but,  rolling  up 

'roafsi/r™ fight  his  sleeves  a  little  wa7>  he  laid  hold  of  it,  placed  his  heel  against 
Robin  Hood  the  ground,  and,  with  one  mighty  pull,  plucked  the  young  tree  up 
by  the  roots  from  out  the  very  earth.  Then  he  came  back,  trim 
ming  away  the  roots  and  tender  stems  with  his  sword  as  quietly  as  if  he  had 
done  naught  to  speak  of. 

Little  John  and  the  Tanner  had  been  watching  all  that  passed,  but  when 
they  saw  the  stranger  drag  the  sapling  up  from  the  earth,  and  heard  the  rend 
ing  and  snapping  of  its  roots,  the  Tanner  pursed  his  lips  together,  drawing  his 
breath  between  them  in  a  long  inward  whistle. 

"  By  the  breath  of  my  body  !  "  said  Little  John,  as  soon  as  he  could  gather 
his  wits  from  their  wonder,  "  sawest  thou  that,  Arthur  ?  Marry,  I  think  our 
poor  master  will  stand  but  an  ill  chance  with  yon  fellow.  By  Our  Lady,  he 
plucked  up  yon  green  tree  as  it  were  a  barley  straw." 

Whatever  Robin  Hood  thought,  he  stood  his  ground,  and  now  he  and  the 
stranger  in  scarlet  stood  face  to  face. 

Well  did  Robin  Hood  hold  his  own  that  day  as  a  midcountry  yeoman.  This 
Robin  Hood  and  way  and  that  they  fought,  and  back  and  forth,  Robin's  skill 
the  stranger  in  agrainst  the  stranger's  strength.  The  dust  of  the  highway  rose 

scarlet  fight  m          *=>  T 

the  high-road.  up  around  them  like  a  cloud,  so  that  at  times  Little  John  and  the 
Tanner  could  see  nothing,  but  only  hear  the  rattle  of  the  staves  against  one 
another.  Thrice  Robin  Hood  struck  the  stranger  ;  once  upon  the  arm  and 
twice  upon  the  ribs,  and  yet  had  he  warded  all  the  other's  blows,  only  one  of 
which,  had  it  met  its  mark,  would  have  laid  stout  Robin  lower  in  the  dust  than 
he  had  ever  gone  before.  At  last  the  stranger  struck  Robin's  cudgel  so  fairly 
in  the  middle  that  he  could  hardly  hold  his  staff  in  his  hand  ; 

The   stranger  .  •      .  ,  1111  i  •     i      • 

overcometh  Rob-    again  he  struck,  and  Robin  bent  beneath  the  blow  ;  a  third  time 

iof£°eatstr'englt   he  struck>  and  now  not  only  fairly  beat  down  Robin's  guard,  but 
and  Robin  Hood   gave  him  such  a  rap,  also,  that  down  he  tumbled  into  the  dusty 

begs  for  mercy. 

road. 

"  Hold  !  "  cried  Robin  Hood,  when  he  saw  the  stranger  raising  his  staff  once 
more.  "  I  yield  me  !  " 

"  Hold  !  "  cried  Little  John,  bursting  from  his  cover,  with  the  Tanner  at  his 

Little  John  bids    heels-       "  H°ld  !    §ive  OVGr'  T  Say  !  " 

the  stranger  hold       "  Nay,"  answered  the  stranger  quietly,  "if  there  be  two  more 
of  you,  and  each  as  stout  as  this  good  fellow,  I  am  like  to  have 


ROBIN  HOOD  AND    WILL  SCARLET. 


95 


my  hands  full.     Nevertheless,  come  on,  and  I  will  strive  my  best  to  serve  you 
all." 

"  Stop  !  "  cried  Robin  Hood,  "  we  will  fight  no  more.  I  take  my  vow,  this  is 
an  ill  day  for  thee  and  me,  Little  John.  I  do  verily  believe  that  my  wrist,  and 
eke  my  arm,  are  palsied  by  the  jar  of  the  blow  that  this  stranger  struck  me." 

Then  Little  John  turned  to  Robin  Hood.     "  Why,  how  now,  good  master," 
said  he,  "  Alas  !  thou  art  in  an  ill  plight.     Marry,  thy  jerkin  is  all 
befouled  with  the  dust  of  the  road.     Let  me  help  thee  to  arise."       mocketh  at  Robin 

"  A  plague  on  thy  aid  !  "  cried  Robin,  angrily.     "  I  can  get  to    Hood>*  mishaP- 
my  feet  without  thy  help,  good  fellow." 

"  Nay,  but  let  me  at  least  dust  thy  coat  for  thee.  I  fear  thy  poor  bones  are 
mightily  sore,"  quoth  Little  John,  soberly,  but  with  a  sly  twinkle  in  his  eyes. 

"  Give  over,  I  say  !  "  quoth  Robin  in  a  fume.  "  My  coat  hath  been  dusted 
enough  already,  without  aid  of  thine."  Then,  turning  to  the  stranger,  he  said, 
"  What  may  be  thy  name,  good  fellow  ?  " 

"  My  name  is  Gamwell,"  answered  the  other. 

"  Ha  !  "  cried  Robin,  "  is  it  even  so  ?  I  have  near  kin  of  that  name. 
Whence  earnest  thou,  fair  friend  ?  " 

"  From  Maxfield  Town  I  come,"  answered  the  stranger.  "There  was  I  born 
and  bred,  and  thence  I  come  to  seek  my  mother's  young  brother,  whom  men 
call  Robin  Hood.  So,  if  perchance  thou  mayst  direct  me  "  — 

"  Ha  !  Will  Gamwell  !  "  cried  Robin,  placing  both  hands  upon  the  other's 
shoulders  and  holding  him  off  at  arm's  length.  "Surely,  it  can  Robin  Hood  find- 
be  none  other  !  I  might  have  known  thee  by  that  pretty  maiden  ttrmgir  t*  his 


air  of  thine,  —  that  dainty,  finicking  manner  of  gait.  Dost  thou  own  sister's  son- 
not  know  me,  lad  ?  Look  upon  me  well." 

"  Now,  by  the  breath  of  my  body  !  "  cried  the  other,  "  I  do  believe  from  my 
heart  that  thou  art  mine  own  Uncle  Robin.  Nay,  certain  it  is  so  !  "  and  each 
flung  his  arms  around  the  other,  kissing  him  upon  the  cheek.  Then  once  more 
Robin  held  his  kinsman  off  at  arm's  length  and  scanned  him  keenly  from  top 
to  toe.  "  Why,  how  now,"  quoth  he,  "  what  change  is  here  ?  Verily,  some 
eight  or  ten  years  ago  I  left  thee  a  stripling  lad,  with  great  joints  and  ill-hung 
limbs,  and  lo  !  here  thou  art,  as  tight  a  fellow  as  e'er  I  set  mine  eyes  upon. 
Dost  thou  not  remember,  lad,  how  I  showed  thee  the  proper  way  to  nip  the 
goose  feather  betwixt  thy  fingers  and  throw  out  thy  bow  arm  steadily  ?  Thou 
gavest  great  promise  of  being  a  keen  archer.  And  dost  thou  not  mind  how 
I  taught  thee  to  fend  and  parry  with  the  cudgel  ?  " 

"  Yea,"  said  young  Gamwell,  "  and  I  did  so  look  up  to  thee,  and  thought  thee 
so  above  all  other  men  that,  I  make  my  vow,  had  I  known  who  thou  wert,  I 
would  never  have  dared  to  lift  hand  against  thee  this  day.  I  trust  I  did  thee 
no  great  harm." 


96  ROBIN  HOOD  AND    WILL  SCARLET. 

"  No,  no,"  quoth  Robin,  hastily,  and  looking  sideways  at  Little  John,  "  thou 
didst  not  harm  me.  But  say  no  more  of  that,  I  prythee.  Yet  I  will  say,  lad, 
that  I  hope  I  may  never  feel  again  such  a  blow  as  thou  didst  give  me.  By  'r 
Lady,  my  arm  doth  tingle  yet  from  finger-nail  to  elbow.  Truly,  I  thought  that 
I  was  palsied  for  life.  I  tell  thee,  coz,  that  thou  art  the  strongest  man  that 
ever  I  laid  mine  eyes  upon.  I  take  my  vow,  I  felt  my  stomach  quake  when  I 
beheld  thee  pluck  up  yon  green  tree  as  thou  didst.  But  tell  me,  how  earnest 
thou  to  leave  Sir  Edward  and  thy  mother  ?  " 

"  Alas  ! "  answered  young  Gamwell,  "  it  is  an  ill  story,  uncle,  that  I  have  to 
Will  Gamwell  tell  thee.  My  father's  steward,  who  came  to  us  after  old  Giles 
telieth  his  story.  crookleg  died,  was  ever  a  saucy  varlet,  and  I  know  not  why  my 
father  kept  him,  saving  that  he  did  oversee  with  great  judgment.  It  used  to 
gall  me  to  hear  him  speak  up  so  boldly  to  my  father,  who,  thou  knowest,  was 
ever  a  patient  man  to  those  about  him,  and  slow  to  anger  and  harsh  words. 
Well,  one  day  —  and  an  ill  day  it  was  for  that  saucy  fellow  —  he  sought  to  be 
rate  my  father,  I  standing  by.  I  could  stand  it  no  longer,  good  uncle,  so,  step 
ping  forth,  I  gave  him  a  box  o'  the  ear,  and  —  wouldst  thou  believe  it  ?  —  the 
fellow  straightway  died  o't.  I  think  they  said  I  broke  his  neck,  or  something 
o'  the  like.  So  off  they  packed  me  to  seek  thee  and  escape  the  law.  I  was  on 
my  way  when  thou  sawest  me,  and  here  I  am." 

"Well,  by  the  faith  of  my  heart,"  quoth  Robin  Hood,  "for  any  one  escaping 
the  law,  thou  wast  taking  it  the  most  easily  that  ever  I  beheld  in  all  my  life. 
Whenever  did  any  one  in  all  the  world  see  one  who  had  slain  a  man,  and  was 
escaping  because  of  it,  tripping  along  the  highway  like  a  dainty  court  damsel, 
sniffing  at  a  rose  the  while  ? " 

"Nay,  uncle,"  answered  Will  Gamwell,  "over  haste  never  churned  good 
butter,  as  the  old  saying  hath  it.  Moreover,  I  do  verily  believe  that  this  over- 
strength  of  my  body  hath  taken  the  nimbleness  out  of  my  heels.  Why,  thou 
didst  but  just  now  rap  me  thrice,  and  I  thee  never  a  once,  save  by  overbearing 
thee  by  my  strength." 

"  Nay,"  quoth  Robin,  "  let  us  say  no  more  on  that  score.     I  am  right  glad  to 

see  thee,  Will,  and  thou  wilt  add  great  honor  and  credit  to  my  band  of  merry 

Will  Gamwell     feH°ws-     But  thou  must  change  thy  name,  for  warrants  will  be 

hath  a  new  name   Out  presently  against  thee;  so,  because  of  thy  gay  clothes,  thou 

shalt  henceforth  and  for  aye  be  called  Will  Scarlet." 

"  Will  Scarlet,"  quoth  Little  John,  stepping  forward  and  reaching  out  his 

Little  John  gall-    great  palm,  which  the  other  took,  "  Will  Scarlet,  the  name  fitteth 

eth  Robin  Hood  thee  well.     Right  glad  am  I  to  welcome  thee  amongst  us.     I  am 

called  Little  John  ;  and  this  is  a  new  member  who  has  just  joined 

us,  a  stout  tanner  named  Arthur  a  Bland.      Thou  art  like  to  achieve  fame, 


ROBIN  HOOD  AND    WILL   SCARLET.  97 

Will,  let  me  tell  thee,  for  there  will  be  many  a  merry  ballad  sung  about  the 
country,  and  many  a  merry  story  told  in  Sherwood  of  how  Robin  Hood  taught 
Little  John  and  Arthur  a  Bland  the  proper  way  to  use  the  quarterstaff ;  like 
wise,  as  it  were,  how  our  good  master  bit  off  so  large  a  piece  of  cake  that  he 
choked  on  it." 

"  Nay,  good  Little  John,"  quoth  Robin,  gently,  for  he  liked  ill  to  have  such  a 
jest  told  of  him,  "Why  should  we  speak  of  this  little  matter?  Pry  thee,  let  us 
keep  this  day's  doings  amongst  ourselves." 

"With  all  my  heart,"  quoth  Little  John.  "But,  good  master,  I  thought  that 
thou  didst  love  a  merry  story,  because  thou  hast  so  often  made  a  jest  about  a 
certain  increase  of  fatness  on  my  joints,  of  flesh  gathered  by  my  abiding  with 
the  Sheriff  of"  — 

"  Nay,  good  Little  John,"  said  Robin,  hastily,  "  I  do  bethink  me  I  have  said 
full  enough  on  that  score." 

"It  is  well,"  quoth  Little  John,  "for  in  truth  I  myself  have  tired  of  it  some 
what.  But  now  I  bethink  me,  thou  didst  also  seem  minded  to  make  a  jest  of 
the  rain  that  threatened  last  night;  so"  — 

"  Nay,  then,"  said  Robin  Hood,  testily,  "  I  was  mistaken.  I  remember  me 
now  it  did  seem  to  threaten  rain." 

"  Truly,  I  did  think  so  myself,"  quoth  Little  John  ;  "  therefore,  no  doubt, 
thou  dost  think  it  was  wise  of  me  to  abide  all  night  at  the  Blue  Boar  Inn,  in 
stead  of  venturing  forth  in  such  stormy  weather ;  dost  thou  not  ?  " 

"  A  plague  of  thee  and  thy  doings  !  "  cried  Robin  Hood.  "  If  thou  wilt  have 
it  so,  thou  wert  right  to  abide  wherever  thou  didst  choose." 

"  Once  more,  it  is  well,"  quoth  Little  John.  "  As  for  myself,  I  have  been 
blind  this  day.  I  did  not  see  thee  drubbed  ;  I  did  not  see  thee  tumbled  heels 
over  head  in  the  dust ;  and  if  any  man  says  that  thou  wert,  I  can  with  a  clear 
conscience  rattle  his  lying  tongue  betwixt  his  teeth." 

"  Come,"  cried  Robin,  biting  his  nether  lip,  while  the  others  could  not  forbear 
laughing,  "We  will  go  n6  farther  to-day,  but  will  return  to  Sher-    Thefour  yeo. 
wood,  and  thou  shalt  go  to  Ancaster  ano'ther  time,  Little  John."      men  turn  their 

1  .  faces  towards 

So  said   Robin,  for  now  that  his  bones  were  sore,  he  telt  as    Sherwood  Forest 
though  a  long  journey  would  be  an  ill  thing  for  him.     So,  turning   agam" 
their  backs,  they  retraced  their  steps  whence  they  came. 


III. 

The  Merry  Adventure  with  Midge  the  Miller. 

WHEN  the  four  yeomen  had  travelled  for  a  long  time  toward  Sherwood 
again,  high  noontide  being  past,  they  began  to  wax  hungry.     Quoth 
Robin  Hood,  "  I  would  that  I  had  somewhat  to  eat.     Methinks  a  good 
Robin  Hood         ^oaf  °f  white  bread,  with  a  piece  of  snow-white  cheese,  washed 
waxeth  hungry.    (jown  wjth  a  draught  of  humming  ale,  were  a  feast  for  a  king." 

"  Since  thou  speakest  of  it,"  said  Will  Scarlet,  "  methinks  it  would  not  be 
amiss  myself.  There  is  that  within  me  crieth  out,  'Victuals,  good  friend, 
victuals!'" 

"  I  know  a  house  near  by,"  said  Arthur  a  Bland,  "  and,  had  I  but  the  money, 
I  would  bring  ye  that  ye  speak  of  ;  to  wit,  a  sweet  loaf  of  bread,  a  fair  cheese, 
and  a  skin  of  brown  ale." 

"  For  the  matter  of  that,  thou  knowest  I  have  money  by  me,  good  master," 
quoth  Little  John. 

"Why,  so  thou  hast,  Little  John,"  said  Robin.  "How  much  money  will  it 
take,  good  Arthur,  to  buy  us  meat  and  drink  ?  " 

"  I  think  that  six  broad  pennies  will  buy  food  enow  for  a  dozen  men,"  said 
the  Tanner. 

"  Then  give  him  six  pennies,  Little  John,"  quoth  Robin,  "  for  methinks  food 
for  three  men  will  about  fit  my  need.  Now  get  thee  gone,  Arthur,  with  the 
money,  and  bring  the  food  here,  for  there  is  a  sweet  shade  in  that  thicket  yon 
der,  beside  the  road,  and  there  will  we  eat  our  meal." 

So  Little  John  gave  Arthur  the  money,  and  the  others  stepped  to  the  thicket, 
The  stout  Tan-  tnere  to  await  the  return  of  the  Tanner. 

nergoeth  to  buy  After  3.  time  he  came  back,  bearing  with  him  a  great  brown 
loaf  of  bread  and  a  fair,  round  cheese,  and  a  goat-skin  full  of 
stout  March  beer,  slung  over  his  shoulders.  Then  Will  Scarlet  took  his  sword 
and  divided  the  loaf  and  the  cheese  into  four  fair  portions,  and  each  man 
helped  himself.  Then  Robin  Hood  took  a  deep  pull  at  the  beer.  "  Aha ! " 
said  he,  drawing  in  his  breath,  "  never  have  I  tasted  sweeter  drink  than  this." 

After  this  no  man  spake  more,  but  each  munched  away  at  his  bread  and 
cheese  lustily,  with  ever  and  anon  a  pull  at  the  beer. 

At  last  Will  Scarlet  looked  at  a  small  piece  of  bread  he  still  held  in  his  hand, 


THE  MERRY  ADVENTURE    WITH  MIDGE   THE  MILLER.       99 

and  quoth  he,  "  Methinks  I  will  give  this  to  the  sparrows."  So,  throwing  it 
from  him,  he  brushed  the  crumbs  from  his  jerkin. 

"  I,  too,"  quoth  Robin,  "  have  had  enough,  I  think."  As  for  Little  John  and 
the  Tanner,  they  had  by  this  time  eaten  every  crumb  of  their  bread  and 
cheese. 

"  Now,  sweet  friends,"  quoth  Robin,  gathering  up  the  skin  of  beer,  that  was 
not  yet  nearly  empty,  "  I  do  wish  that  ye  may  ever  have  such  happiness  as  a 
good  stout  meal  like  this  bringeth  to  my  heart.  Thus  pledging  you  all,  I  drink 
to  your  health,  that  it  may  ever  remain  such  as  it  is  this  day."  So  saying,  he 
took  a  long,  hearty  pull  at  the  stout  beer.  Next  Will  Scarlet  took  the  skin, 
then  Little  John,  and,  last  of  all,  the  stout  Tanner.  A  good  full  skin  of  beer, 
as  fat  as  a  town  tradesman,  began  the  round  ;  a  poor,  flabby  hide  came  forth, 
as  weak  and  limp  as  an  aged  man. 

"  Now,"  quoth  Robin,  "  I  do  feel  myself  another  man,  and  would  fain  enjoy 
something  pleasant  before  going  farther  upon  our  journey.  I  do  bethink  me, 
Will,  that  thou  didst  use  to  have  a  pretty  voice,  and  one  that  tuned  sweetly 
upon  a  song.  Prythee,  give  us  one  ere  we  journey  farther." 

"Truly,  I  do  not  mind  turning  a  tune,"  answered  Will  Scarlet ;  "but  I  would 
not  sing  alone." 

"  Nay,  others  will  follow.     Strike  up,  lad,"  quoth  Robin. 

"  In  that  case,  't  is  well,"  said  Will  Scarlet.  "  I  do  call  to  mind  a  song  that 
a  certain  minstrel  used  to  sing  in  my  father's  hall,  upon  occasion.  I  know  no 
name  for  it,  and  so  can  give  you  none  :  but  thus  it  is."  Then,  w*ll  Scarlet 

1        •        u-     4.1.        «.    u  r  11  swgeth  a  song. 

clearing  his  throat,  he  sang  as  follows  :  — 

"  In  the  merry  blossom  time, 

When  love-longings  flood  the  breast, 
When  the  flower  is  on  the  lime, 

When  the  small  fowl  builds  her  nest, 
Sweetly  sings  the  nightingale 

And  the  throstle-cock  so  bold ; 
Cuckoo  in  the  dewy  dale, 

And  the  turtle  in  the  wild. 
But  the  robin  I  love  dear, 
For  he  singeth  through  the  year. 
Robin  !  Robin  ! 
Merry  Robin  ! 
So  I  'd  have  my  true  love  be : 
Not  to  fly 
At  the  nigh 
Sign  of  cold  adversity. 


100     THE  MERRY  ADVENTURE    WITH  MIDGE   THE  MILLER. 

"  When  the  Spring  brings  sweet  delights, 

When  aloft  the  lark  doth  rise, 
Lovers  woo  0'  mellow  nights, 

And  youths  peep  in  maidens'1  eyes, 
That  time  blooms  the  eglantine, 

Daisies  pied  upon  the  hill, 
Cowslips  fair  and  columbine, 

Dusky  violets  by  the  rill. 
But  the  Ivy  green  doth  grow 
When  the  north  wind  bringeth  snow. 
Ivy  !  Ivy  ! 
Stanch  and  true  I 
Thus  I  *d  have  her  love  to  be; 
Not  to  die 
At  the  nigh 
Breath  of  cold  adversity." 

"  T  is  well  sung,"  quoth  Robin ;  "  but,  cousin,  I  tell  thee  plain,  I  would 
rather  hear  a  stout  fellow  like  thee  sing  some  lusty  ballad  than  a  finicking  song 
of  flowers  and  birds,  and  what  not.  Yet,  thou  didst  sing  it  fair,  and  'tis  none 
so  bad  a  snatch  of  a  song,  for  the  matter  of  that.  Now,  Tanner,  it  is  thy  turn 
next." 

"  I  know  not,"  quoth  Arthur,  smiling,  with  his  head  on  one  side,  like  a  bud 
ding  lass  that  is  asked  to  dance,  "  I  know  not  that  I  can  match  our  sweet 
friend's  song  ;  moreover,  I  do  verily  think  that  I  have  caught  a  cold  and  have 
a  certain  tickling  and  huskiness  in  the  windpipe." 

"  Nay,  sing  up,  friend,"  quoth  Little  John,  who  sat  next  to  him,  patting  him 
upon  the  shoulder.  "  Thou  hast  a  fair,  round,  mellow  voice  ;  let  us  have  a 
touch  of  it." 

"  Nay,  an  ye  will  ha'  a  poor  thing,"  said  Arthur,  "  I  will  do  my  best.  Have 
ye  ever  heard  of  the  wooing  of  Sir  Keith,  the  stout  young  Cornish  knight,  in 
good  King  Arthur's  time  ? " 

"  Methinks  I  have  heard  somewhat  of  it,"  said   Robin  ;  "  but   ne'ertheless 
Arthur  a  Bland  strike  up  thy  ditty  and  let  us  hear -it,  for,  as  I  do  remember  me, 
SWooing  of  Sir     ^  *s  a  gallant  song  ;  so  out  with  it,  good  fellow." 
Keith-  Thereupon,  clearing  his  throat,  the  Tanner,  without  more  ado, 

began  to  sing  the  ballad  of 


THE  MERRY  ADVENTURE    WITH  MIDGE   THE  MILLER.     JOi 


THE   WOOING  OF  SIR  KEITH. 

"  King  Arthur  sat  in  his  royal  hall. 

And  about  on  either  hand 
Was  many  a  noble  lordling  tall, 
The  greatest  in  the  land. 

"  Sat  Lancelot  with  raven  locks, 

Gawaine  with  golden  hair, 
Sir  Tristram,  Kay  who  kept  the  locks, 
And  many  another  there. 

"  And  through  the  stained  windows  bright, 

From  o'er  the  red  tiled  eaves, 
2 he  sunlight  blazed  with  colored  light 
On  golden  helms  and  greaves. 

"  But  suddenly  a  silence  came 

About  the  Table  Round, 
For  up  the  hall  there  walked  a  dame 
Bent  nigh  unto  the  ground. 

"  Her  nose  was  hooked,  her  eyes  were  bleared., 

Her  locks  were  lank  and  white  ; 
Upon  her  chin  there  grew  a  beard  ; 
She  was  a  grewsome  sight. 

"  And  so  with  crawling  step  she  came 

And  kneeled  at  Arthur 's  feet ; 
Quoth  Kay,  '  She  is  the  foulest  dame 
That  e'er  my  sight  did  greet? 

"  '  O  mighty  King  !  of  thee  I  crave 

A  boon  on  bended  knee  ; ' 

'Twas  thus  she  spoke.     '  What  wouldst  thou  have,' 
Quoth  Arthur,  King,  '  of  me  ?  ' 

"  Quoth  she,  '  I  have  afoul  disease 

Doth  gnaw  my  very  heart, 
And  but  one  thing  can  bring  me  ease 
Or  cure  my  bitter  smart. 


102     THE  MERRY  ADVENTURE    WITH  MIDGE   THE  MILLER. 

"  l  There  is  no  rest,  no  ease  for  me 
North,  east,  or  west,  or  south, 
Till  Christian  knight  will  willingly 
Thrice  kiss  me  on  the  mouth. 

"  *  Nor  wedded  may  this  childe  have  been 

That  giveth  ease  to  me; 
Nor  may  he  be  constrained,  I  ween, 
But  kiss  me  willingly. 

"  '  So  is  there  here  one  Christian  knight 

Of  such  a  noble  strain 
That  he  will  give  a  tortured  wight 
Sweet  ease  of  mortal  pain  ?  ' 

"  '  A  wedded  man,'  quoth  Arthur,  King, 

1 A  wedded  man  I  be, 
Else  would  I  deem  it  noble  thing 
To  kiss  thee  willingly. 

" '  Now,  Lancelot,  in  all  men's  sight 

Thou  art  the  head  and  chief 
Of  chivalry.     Come,  noble  knight, 
And  give  her  quick  relief.' 

"  But  Lancelot  he  turned  aside 

And  looked  upon  the  ground, 

For  it  did  sting  his  haughty  pride 

To  hear  them  laugh  around. 

"  '  Come  thou,  Sir  Tristram,'  quoth  the  King. 

Quoth  he,  '  It  cannot  be, 
For  ne'er  can  I  my  stomach  bring 
To  do  it  willingly.' 

"  '  Wilt  thou,  Sir  Kay,  thou  scornful  wight  1 ' 

Quoth  Kay,  '  Nay,  by  my  troth  ! 
What  noble  dame  would  kiss  a  knight 
That  kissed  so  foul  a  mouth  ? ' 

"'Wilt  thou,  GawaineV     '  I cannot,  King.' 

1  Sir  Geraint  ? '     '  Nay,  not  I; 
My  kisses  no  relief  could  bring, 
For  sooner  would  I  die.' 


THE  MERRY  ADVENTURE   WITH  MIDGE   THE  MILLER.     103 

"  Then  up  and  spake  the  youngest  man 

Of  all  about  the  board, 
'  Now  such  relief  as  Christian  can 

I  'II  give  to  her,  my  lord? 

"  It  was  Sir  Keith,  a  youthful  knight, 

Yet  strong  of  limb  and  bold, 
With  beard  upon  his  chin  as  light 
As  finest  threads  of  gold. 

"  Quoth  Kay,  '  He  hath  no  mistress  yet 

That  he  may  call  his  own, 
But  here  is  one  that 's  quick  to  get, 
As  she  herself  has  shown.'1 

"  He  kissed  her  once,  he  kissed  her  twice, 

He  kissed  her  three  times  o'er, 
A  wondrous  change  came  in  a  trice. 
And  she  was  foul  no  more. 

"  Her  cheeks  grew  red  as  any  rose, 

Her  brow  as  white  as  lawn, 

Her  bosom  like  the  winter  snows, 

Her  eyes  like  those  of  fawn. 

"  Her  breath  grew  sweet  as  summer  breeze 

That  blows  the  meadows  o'er ; 
Her  voice  grew  soft  as  rustling  trees, 
And  cracked  and  harsh  no  more. 

"  Her  hair  grew  glittering  like  the  gold, 

Her  hands  as  white  as  milk  ; 

Her  filthy  rags,  so  foul  and  old, 

Were  changed  to  robes  of  silk. 

"  In  great  amaze  the  knights  did  stare. 

Quoth  Kay,  '  /  make,  my  vow 
If  it  will  please  thee,  lady  fair, 
I  'II  gladly  kiss  thee  now' 

"  But  young  Sir  Keith  kneeled  on  one  knee 

And  kissed  her  robes  so  fair. 
'  O  let  me  be  thy  slave,'  said  he, 

'  For  none  to  thee  compare? 


104     2 HE  MERRY  ADVENTURE    WITH  MIDGE   THE  MILLER. 

"  She  bent  her  down,  she  kissed  his  brow, 

She  kissed  his  lips  and  eyes. 
Quoth  she,  '  Thou  art  my  master  now, 
My  lord,  my  love,  arise ! 

"  *  And  all  the  wealth  that  is  mine  own, 

My  lands,  I  give  to  thee, 
For  never  knight  hath  lady  shown 
Such  noble  courtesy. 

" '  Bewitched  was  I,  in  bitter  pain, 

But  thou  hast  set  me  free, 
So  now  I  am  myself  again, 
I  give  myself  to  thee?  " 

"Yea,  truly,"  quoth  Robin  Hood,  when  the  Tanner  had  made  an  end  of 
singing,  "  it  is  as  I  remember  it,  a  fair  ditty,  and  a  ballad  with  a  pleasing  tune 
of  a  song." 

"  It  hath  oftentimes  seemed  to  me,"  said  Will  Scarlet,  "  that  it  hath  a  certain 
motive  in  it,  e'en  such  as  this :  That  a  duty  which  seemeth  to  us  sometimes 
ugly  and  harsh,  when  we  do  kiss  it  fairly  upon  the  mouth,  so  to  speak,  is  no 
such  foul  thing  after  all." 

"Methinks  thou  art  right,"  quoth  Robin,  "and,  contrariwise,  that  when  we 
kiss  a  pleasure  that  apoeareth  gay  it  turneth  foul  to  us  ;  is  it  not  so,  Little 
John  ?  Truly  such  a  thing  hath  brought  thee  sore  thumps  this  day.  Nay, 
man,  never  look  down  in  the  mouth.  Clear  thy  pipes  and  sing  us  a  ditty." 

"  Nay,"  said  Little  John,  "  I  have  none  as  fair  as  that  merry  Arthur  has 
trolled.  They  are  all  poor  things  that  I  know.  Moreover,  my  voice  is  not  in 
tune  to-day,  and  I  would  not  spoil  even  a  tolerable  song  by  ill  singing." 

Upon  this  all  pressed  Little  John  to  sing,  so  that  when  he  had  denied  them 
Little  John  be-  a.  proper  length  of  time,  such  as  is  seemly  in  one  that  is  asked  to 
fon™fn?dotfy  sin&  he  presently  yielded.  Quoth  he,  "Well,  an  ye  will  ha'  it 
not  finish  it.  so,  I  will  give  you  what  I  can.  Like  to  fair  Will,  I  have  no  title 
to  my  ditty,  but  thus  it  runs."  Then  clearing  his  voice  he  sang :  — 

"  O  Lady  mine,  the  spring  is  here, 

With  a  hey  nonny  nonny  ; 
The  sweet  love  season  of  the  year, 
With  a  ninny  ninny  nonny  ; 
Now  lad  and  lass 
Lie  in  the  grass 


2WE  MERRY  ADVENTURE    WITH  MIDGE   THE  MILLER.     105 

That  groweth  green 

With  flowers  between. 

The  buck  doth  rest, 

The  leaves  do  start, 

The  cock  doth  crow, 

The  breeze  doth  blow, 

And  all  things  laugh  in  "  — 

"  Who  may  yon  fellow  be  coming  along  the  road  ? "  said  Robin,  breaking 
into  the  song. 

"  I  know  not,"  quoth  Little  John,  in  a  surly  voice.  "  But  this  I  do  know, 
that  it  is  an  ill  thing  to  do  to  check  the  flow  of  a  good  song." 

"  Nay,  Little  John,"  said  Robin,  "  be  not  vexed,  I  prythee  ;  but  I  have  been 
watching  him  coming  along,  bent  beneath  that  great  bag  over  his  shoulder, 
ever  since  thou  didst  begin  thy  song.  Look,  Little  John,  I  pray,  and  see  if 
thou  knowest  him." 

Little  John  looked  whither  Robin  Hood  pointed.  "Truly,"  quoth  he,  after 
a  time,  "  I  think  yon  fellow  is  a  certain  young  miller  I  have  seen  now  and  then 
around  the  edge  of  Sherwood ;  a  poor  wight,  methinks,  to  spoil  a  good  song 
about." 

"Now  thou  speakest  of  him,"  quoth  Robin  Hood,  "methinks  I  myself  have 
seen  him  now  and  then.  Hath  he  not  a  mill  over  beyond  Nottingham  Town, 
nigh  to  the  Salisbury  road  ? " 

"Thou  art  right ;  that  is  the  man,"  said  Little  John. 

"  A  good  stout  fellow,"  quoth  Robin.  "  I  saw  him  crack  Ned  o'  Bradford's 
crown  about  a  fortnight  since,  and  never  saw  I  hair  lifted  more  neatly  in  all 
my  life  before." 

By  this  time  the  young  miller  had  come  so  near  that  they  could  see  him 
clearly.  His  clothes  were  dusted  with  flour,  and  over  his  back  he  carried  a 
great  sack  of  meal,  bending  so  as  to  bring  the  whole  weight  upon  his  shoulders, 
and  across  the  sack  was  a  thick  quarterstaff.  His  limbs  were  stout  and  strong, 
and  he  strode  along  the  dusty  road  right  sturdily  with  the  heavy  sack  across 
his  shoulders.  His  cheeks  were  ruddy  as  a  winter  hip,  his  hair  was  flaxen  in 
color,  and  on  his  chin  was  a  downy  growth  of  flaxen  beard. 

"A  good  honest  fellow,"  quoth  Robin  Hood,  "and  such  an  one  as  is  a  credit 
to  English  yeomanrie.  Now  let  us  have  a  merry  jest  with  him.  We  will  forth 
as  though  we  were  common  thieves  and  pretend  to  rob  him  of  his  honest  gains. 
Then  will  we  take  him  into  the  forest  and  give  him  a  feast  such  as  his  stomach 
never  held  in  all  his  life  before.  We  will  flood  his  throat  with  good  canary 
and  send  him  home  with  crowns  in  his  purse  for  every  penny  he  hath.  What 
say  ye,  lads  ?  " 


106     THE  MERRY  ADVENTURE    WITH  MIDGE   THE  MILLER. 

"  Truly,  it  is  a  merry  thought,"  said  Will  Scarlet. 

"It  is  well  planned,"  quoth  Little  John,  "but  all  the  saints  preserve  us  from 
any  more  drubbings  this  day !  Marry,  my  poor  bones  ache  so  that  I "  — 

"Prythee  peace,  Little  John,"  quoth  Robin.  "Thy  foolish  tongue  will  get 
us  both  well  laughed  at  yet." 

"My  foolish  tongue,  forsooth,"  growled  Little  John  to  Arthur  a  Bland.  "I 
would  it  could  keep  our  master  from  getting  us  into  another  coil  this  day." 

But  now  the  Miller,  plodding  along  the  road,  had  come  opposite  to  where  the 
yeomen  lay  hidden,  whereupon  all  four  of  them  ran  at  him  and  surrounded 
him. 

"  Hold,  friend ! "  cried  Robin  to  the  Miller  ;  whereupon  he  turned  slowly, 
with  the  weight  of  the  bag  upon  his  shoulder,  and  looked  at  each 

Robtn  Hood  bids  o  o 

the  Miller's  son  in  turn  all  bewildered,  for  though  a  good  stout  man  his  wits  did 
not  skip  like  roasting  chestnuts. 

"  Who  bids  me  stay  ? "  said  the  Miller  in  a  voice  deep  and  gruff,  like  the 
growl  of  a  great  dog. 

"  Marry  that  do  I,"  quoth  Robin ;  "  and  let  me  tell  thee,  friend,  thou  hadst 
best  mind  my  bidding." 

"  And  who  art  thou,  good  friend  ? "  said  the  Miller,  throwing  the  great  sack 
of  meal  from  his  shoulder  to  the  ground  ;  "and  who  are  those  with  thee ? " 

"  We  be  four  good  Christian  men,"  quoth  Robin,  "  and  would  fain  help  thee 
by  carrying  part  of  thy  heavy  load  for  thee." 

"  I  give  you  all  thanks,"  said  the  Miller,  "  but  my  bag  is  none  that  heavy  that 
I  cannot  carry  it  e'en  by  myself." 

"  Nay,  thou  dost  mistake,"  quoth  Robin,  "  I  meant  that  thou  mightest  per 
haps  have  some  heavy  farthings  or  pence  about  thee,  not  to  speak  of  silver  and 
gold.  Our  good  Gaffer  Swanthold  sayeth  that  gold  is  an  over  heavy  burden 
for  a  two-legged  ass  to  carry ;  so  we  would  e'en  lift  some  of  this  load  from 
thee." 

"  Alas ! "  cried  the  Miller  ;  "  what  would  ye  do  to  me  ?  I  have  not  about 
me  so  much  as  a  clipped  groat.  Do  me  no  harm,  I  pray  you,  but  let  me  de 
part  in  peace.  Moreover,  let  me  tell  you  that  ye  are  upon  Robin  Hood's 
ground,  and  should  he  find  you  seeking  to  rob  an  honest  craftsman,  he  will  clip 
your  ears  to  your  heads  and  scourge  you  even  to  the  walls  of  Nottingham." 

"  In  truth  I  fear  Robin  Hood  no  more  than  I  do  myself,"  quoth  jolly  Robin. 
"  Thou  must  this  day  give  up  to  me  every  penny  thou  hast  about  thee.  Nay, 
if  thou  dost  budge  an  inch  I  will  rattle  this  staff  about  thine  ears." 

"  Nay,  smite  me  not ! "  cried  the  Miller,  throwing  up  his  elbow  as  though  he 
feared  the  blow.  "Thou  mayst  search  me  if  thou  wilt,  but  thou  wilt  find 
nothing  upon  me,  pouch,  pocket,  or  skin." 


The-FourYcomon-hauc-/\crr/- 


THE  MERRY  ADVENTURE    WITH  MIDGE   THE  MILLER.     109 

"  Is  it  so  ?  "  quoth  Robin  Hood,  looking  keenly  upon  him.  "  Now  I  believe 
that  what  thou  tellest  is  no  true  tale.  If  I  am  not  much  mistook  thou  hast 
somewhat  in  the  bottom  of  that  fat  sack  of  meal.  Good  Arthur,  empty  the 
bag  upon  the  ground  ;  I  warrant  thou  wilt  find  a  shilling  or  two  in  the  flour." 

"Alas!"  cried  the  Miller,  falling  upon  his  knees,  "spoil  not  all  my  good 
meal  !  It  can  better  you  not,  and  will  ruin  me.  Spare  it,  and  I  will  give  up 
the  money  in  the  bottom  of  the  bag." 

"  Ha  !  "  quoth  Robin,  nudging  Will  Scarlet,  "  Is  it  so  ?     And  have  I  found 
where  thy  money  lies  ?     Marry,  I  have  a  wondrous  nose  for  the   Robin  Hood 
blessed  image  of  good  King  Harry.     I  thought  that  I  smelt  gold  findeth  the  Mill- 
and  silver  beneath  the   barley  meal.      Bring  it  straight  forth, 
Miller." 

Then  slowly  the  Miller  arose  to  his  feet,  and  slowly  and  unwillingly  he  un 
tied  the  mouth  of  the  bag,  and  slowly  thrust  his  hands  into  the  meal  and  began 
fumbling  about  with  his  arms  buried  to  the  elbows  in  the  barley  flour.  The 
others  gathered  round  him,  their  heads  together,  looking  and  wondering  what 
he  would  bring  forth. 

So  they  stood,  all  with  their  heads  close  together,  gazing  down  into  the  sack. 
But  while  he  pretended  to  be  searching  for  the  money,  the  Miller  gathered  two 
great  handfuls  of  meal,  "  Ha,"  quoth  he,  "here  they  are,  the 


beauties."     Then,  as  the  others  leaned  still  more  forward  to  see   throwetk  meal 

11111  111  i    •  i     •      r  rw  into  the  faces  of 

what  he  had,  he  suddenly  cast  the  meal  into  their  faces,  filling   the  four,  and  so 
their  eyes  and  noses  and  mouths  with  the  flour,  blinding  and  half    **•*  them- 
choking  them.     Arthur  a  Bland  was  worse  off  than  any,  for  his  mouth  was 
open,  agape  with  wonder  of  what  was  to  come,  so  that  a  great  cloud  of  flour 
flew  down  his  throat,  setting  him  a-coughing  till  he  could  scarcely  stand. 

Then,  while  all  four  stumbled  about,  roaring  with  the  smart  of  the  meal  in 
their  eyeballs,  and  while  they  rubbed  their  eyes  till  the  tears  made  great  chan 
nels  on  their  faces  through  the  meal,  the  Miller  seized  another  handful  of  flour 
and  another  and  another,  throwing  it  in  their  faces,  so  that  even  had  they  had 
a  glimmering  of  light  before  they  were  now  as  blind  as  ever  a  beggar  in  Not 
tinghamshire,  while  their  hair  and  beards  and  clothes  were  as  white  as  snow. 

Then  catching  up  his  great  crab  staff,  the  Miller  began  laying  about  him  as 
though  he  were  clean  gone  mad.  This  way  and  that  skipped  the  The  stout  Miller 
four,  like  peas  on  a  drumhead,  but  they  could  neither  see  to  de-  drubs  them' 
fend  themselves  nor  to  run  away.  Thwack  !  thwack  !  went  the  Miller's  cudgel 
across  their  backs,  and  at  every  blow  great  white  clouds  of  flour  rose  in  the  air 
from  their  jackets  and  went  drifting  down  the  breeze. 

"  Stop  !  "  roared  Robin  at  last.  "  Give  over,  good  friend,  I  am  Robin 
Hood!" 


1  10     THE  MERRY  ADVENTURE    WITH  MIDGE   THE  MILLER. 

"  Thou  liest,  thou  knave,"  cried  the  Miller,  giving  him  a  rap  on  the  ribs  that 
sent  up  a  great  cloud  of  flour  like  a  puff  of  smoke.  "Stout  Robin  never 
robbed  an  honest  tradesman.  Ha  !  thou  wouldst  have  my  money,  wouldst 
thou  ?  "  And  he  gave  him  another  blow.  "  Nay,  thou  art  not  getting  thy 
share,  thou  long-legged  knave.  Share  and  share  alike."  And  he  smote  Little 
John  across  the  shoulders  so  that  he  sent  him  skipping  half  across  the  road. 
"  Nay,  fear  not,  it  is  thy  turn  now,  black  beard."  And  he  gave  the  Tanner  a 
crack  that  made  him  roar  for  all  his  coughing.  "  How  now,  red  coat,  let  me 
brush  the  dust  from  thee  !  "  cried  he,  smiting  Will  Scarlet.  And  so  he  gave 
them  merry  words  and  blows  until  they  could  scarcely  stand,  and  whenever  he 
saw  one  like  to  clear  his  eyes  he  threw  more  flour  in  his  face. 

At  last  Robin  Hood  found  his  horn,  and  clapping  it  to  his  lips 

Robin  Hood  .  .  .        .  .  . 

soundeth  his         blew  three  loud  blasts  upon  it. 


™  Now  it:  chanced  that  Will  Stutely  and  a  party  of  Robin's  men 
merry  men  to  the  were  in  the  glade  not  far  from  where  this  merry  sport  was  going 
forward.  Hearing  the  hubbub  of  voices,  and  blows  that  sounded 
like  the  noise  of  a  flail  in  the  barn  in  winter  time,  they  stopped,  listening,  and 
wondering  what  was  toward.  Quoth  Will  Stutely,  "  Now  if  I  mistake  not 
there  is  some  stout  battle  with  cudgels  going  forward  not  far  hence.  I  would 
fain  see  this  pretty  sight."  So  saying,  he  and  the  whole  party  turned  their 
steps  whence  the  noise  came.  When  they  had  come  near  where  all  the  tumult 
sounded  they  heard  the  three  blasts  of  Robin's  bugle  horn. 

"  Quick  !  "  cried  young  David  of  Doncaster.  "  Our  master  is  in  sore  need  !  " 
So,  without  stopping  a  moment,  they  dashed  forward  with  might  and  main  and 
burst  forth  from  the  covert  into  the  high-road. 

But  what  a  sight  was  that  which  they  saw.  The  road  was  all  white  with 
meal,  and  five  men  stood  there  also  white  with  meal  from  top  to  toe,  for  much 
of  the  barley  flour  had  fallen  back  upon  the  Miller. 

"  What  is  thy  need,  master  ?  "  cried  Will  Stutely.  "  And  what  doth  all  this 
mean  ?  " 

"  Why,"  quoth  Robin  in  a  mighty  passion,  "  yon  traitor  fellow  hath  come  as 
nigh  slaying  me  as  e'er  a  man  in  all  the  world.  Hadst  thou  not  come  quickly, 
good  Stutely,  thy  master  had  been  dead." 

Hereupon,  whilst  he  and  the  three  others  rubbed  the  meal  from  their  eyes, 
and  Will  Stutely  and  his  men  brushed  their  clothes  clean,  he  told  them  all  ; 
how  that  he  had  meant  to  pass  a  jest  upon  the  Miller,  which  same  had  turned 
so  grievously  upon  them. 

"Quick,  men,  seize  the  vile  Miller!"  cried  Stutely,  who  was  nigh  choking 
with  laughter  as  were  the  rest  ;  whereupon  several  ran  upon  the  stout  fellow, 
and  seizing  him  bound  his  arms  behind  his  back  with  bowstrings. 


THE  MERRY  ADVENTURE    WITH  MIDGE   THE  MILLER,      m 

"  Ha ! "    cried    Robin,   when    they   brought   the    trembling   Miller   to   him. 
"  Thou  wouldst  murder  me,   wouldst  thou  ?     By  my  faith "  — 
Here  he  stopped  and  stood  glaring  upon  the  Miller  with  a  grim    thinlethto  pun- 
look.     But  Robin's  anger  could  not  hold,  so  first  his  eyes  twinkled,    ',s/i tke  Mill/r^ 

.  .  J  but  cannot  do  so 

and  then  m  spite  of  all  he  broke  into  a  laugh.  because  of  his 

Now  when  they  saw  their  master  laugh,  the  yeomen  who  stood    ' 
around  could  contain  themselves  no  longer,  and  a  mighty  shout  of  laughter 
went  up  from  all.     Many  could  not  stand,  but  rolled  upon  the  ground  from 
pure  merriment. 

"  What  is  thy  name,  good  fellow  ? "  said  Robin  at  last  to  the  Miller,  who 
stood  gaping  and  as  though  he  were  in  a  maze. 

"  Alas,  sir,  I  am  Midge,  the  Miller's  son,"  said  he  in  a  frightened  voice. 

"  I  make  my  vow,"  quoth  merry  Robin,  smiting  him  upon  the  shoulder, 
"thou  art  the  mightiest  Midge  that  e'er  mine  eyes  beheld.     Now    md  e  the  Min_ 
wilt  thou  leave  thy  dusty  mill  and  come  and  join  my  band  ?     By    «-'j  sonjoineth 
my  faith,  thou  art  too  stout  a  man  to  spend  thy  days  betwixt  the 
hopper  and  the  till." 

"  Then  truly,  if  thou  dost  forgive  me  for  the  blows  I  struck,  not  knowing 
who  thou  wast,  I  will  join  with  thee  right  merrily,"  said  the  Miller. 

"  Then  have  I  gained  this  day,"  quoth  Robin,  "  the  three  stoutest  yeomen  in 
all  Nottinghamshire.     We  will  get  us  away  to  the  greenwood  tree,  and  there 
hold  a  merry  feast  in  honor  of  our  new  friends,  and  mayhap  a  cup  or  two  of 
good  sack  and  canary  may  mellow  the  soreness  of  my  poor  joints  and  bones, 
though  I  warrant  it  will  be  many  a  day  before  I  am  again  the    They  go  back 
man  I  was."     So  saying,  he  turned  and  led  the  way,  the  rest   again  to  Sher- 
following,  and  so  they  entered  the  forest  once  more  and  were 
lost  to  sight. 

So  that  night  all  was  ablaze  with  crackling  fires  in  the  woodlands,  for  though 
Robin  and  those  others  spoken  of,  only  excepting  Midge,  the  Miller's  son,  had 
many  a  sore  bump  and  bruise  here  and  there  on  their  bodies,  they  were  still 
not  so  sore  in  the  joints  that  they  could  not  enjoy  a  jolly  feast  given  all  in 
welcome  to  the  new  members  of  the  band.  Thus  with  songs  and  jesting  and 
laughter  that  echoed  through  the  deeper  and  more  silent  nooks  of  the  forest, 
the  night  passed  quickly  along,  as  such  merry  times  are  wont  to  do,  until  at 
last  each  man  sought  his  couch  and  silence  fell  on  all  things  and  all  things 
seemed  to  sleep. 

Thus  came  about  three  merry  adventures  in  one  day,  the  one  stepping  upon 
the  heels  of  another. 

But  Little  John's  tongue  was  ever  one  that  was  not  easy  of  guidance,  so  that, 
inch  by  inch,  the  whole  story  of  his  fight  with  the  Tanner  and  Robin's  fight 


112      THE  MERRY  ADVENTURE   WITH  MIDGE  THE  MILLER. 

with  Will  Scarlet  leaked  out.  And  so  I  have  told  it  that  you  may  laugh  at  the 
merry  tale  along  with  me. 

Now  happenings  so  come  upon  us  in  this  world  that  the  serious  things  of 
this  world  become  so  mixed  up  with  the  merry  things  that  our  life  is  all  of  a 
jumble  of  black  and  white,  as  it  were,  like  the  boards  of  checkered  black  and 
white  upon  which  country  folk  play  draughts  at  the  inn  beside  the  blazing  fire 
of  a  winter's  night 

So  things  fell  out  with  Robin  Hood,  for  this  day  of  merry  sport,  through 
which  we  have  just  trudged  and  buffeted  with  him  and  certain  other  mad  wags, 
was  speedily  followed  by  one  in  which,  though  merriment  was  a-doing,  more 
weighty  matters  were  undertaken.  So  listen  to  what  follows. 


ALLAN-A- DALE- tells-hi  S 


PART   FOURTH. 

In  which  it  is  told  how  Allan  a  Dale  was  brought  to  Robin  Hood,  who 
promised  to  help  him  in  troiible.  Also  how  Robin  sought  the  curtal 
Friar  of  Fountain  Abbey  with  that  aim  in  view.  Likewise  it  is  re 
counted  how  Robin  Hood  brought  two  true  lovers  together  that  would 
else  have  been  made  unhappy  all  their  lives. 


I. 

Robin   Hood  and  Allan  a  Dale. 

T  has  just  been  told  how  three  unlucky  adventures  fell 
upon  Robin  Hood  and  Little  John  all  in  one  day,  bringing 
them  sore  ribs  and  aching  bones.  So  next  we  will  tell 
how  they  made  up  for  those  ill  happenings  by  a  good  ac 
tion  that  came  about  not  without  some  small  pain  to 
Robin. 

Two  days  had  passed  by,  and  somewhat  of  the  soreness 
had  passed  away  from  Robin  Hood's  joints,  yet  still,  when  he  moved  of  a 
sudden  and  without  thinking,  pain  here  and  there  would,  as  it  were,  jog  him, 
crying,  "  Thou  hast  had  a  drubbing,  good  fellow." 

The  day  was  bright  and  jocund,  and  the  morning  dew  still  lay  upon  the 
grass.  Under  the  greenwood  tree  sat  Robin  Hood  ;  on  one  side  was  Will 
Scarlet,  lying  at  full  length  upon  his  back,  gazing  up  into  the  clear  sky,  with 
hands  clasped  behind  his  head  ;  upon  the  other  side  sat  Little  John,  fashioning 
a  cudgel  out  of  a  stout  crab-tree  limb  ;  elsewhere  upon  the  grass  sat  or  lay 
many  others  of  the  band. 

Will  Scathe-lock,  who  was  as  full  of  tales  and  legends  as  an  egg  is  of  meat, 


ng  ROBIN  HOOD  AND  ALLAN  A  DALE. 

was  telling  of  the  adventures  that  befell  brave  Sir  Carodoc  of  the  Shrunken 

Arm,  of  King  Arthur's  time,  and  of  his  love  to  his  one  true  maid,  and  of  what 

they  dared  and  suffered  for  each  other's  sake.     That  noble  story 

Will  Scathelock  J  •  r        •      i          i  •«.*.  i 

telieth  the  goodly  you  yourself  may  read  some  time,  for  it  has  been  written  and 
fd7c°ofSthre  Car'  sung  in  more  than  one  ancient  tale  and  ballad,  both  in  courtly  and 
Shrunken  Arm.  ^  homely  phrase.  To  this  all  listened  without  a  word,  and  when 
it  was  done  many  drew  deep  breaths,  being  carried  away  by  the  tale  of  knightly 
daring  and  noble  sacrifice. 

"  It  doth  make  a  man  better,"  quoth  Robin  Hood,  "  to  hear  of  those  noble 
men  that  lived  so  long  ago.  When  one  doth  list  to  such  tales,  his  soul  doth 
say,  '  Put  by  thy  poor  little  likings  and  seek  to  do  likewise.'  Truly,  one  may 
not' do  as  nobly  one's  self,  but  in  the  striving  one  is  better.  I  mind  me  our  good 
Gaffer  Swanthold  was  wont  to  say,  '  He  who  jumps  for  the  moon  and  gets  it 
not  leaps  higher  than  he  who  stoops  for  a  penny  in  the  mud.' ' 

"  Truly,"  quoth  Will  Stutely,  "  it  is  a  fine  thought,  but,  nevertheless,  good 
master,  the  one  gets  a  penny  and  the  other  gets  nought,  and,  without  the 
penny,  one  is  like  to  go  with  an  empty  stomach.  These  same  stories  are  well 
to  listen  to  but  ill  to  follow,  say  I." 

"By  the  faith  of  my  heart,"  quoth  merry  Robin,  "  thou  dost  ever  trip  up  a 
lofty  thought  that  gazes  in  the  sky,  and  dost  bring  its  nose  in  the  dust.  Nev 
ertheless,  thou  hast  a  shrewd  wit  in  thy  head,  good  Stutely  ;  and  now  that  thou 
bringest  me  to  things  of  the  world,  I  do  bethink  me  that  we  have  had  no  one 
to  dine  with  us  for  this  long  time.  Our  money  groweth  low  in  the  purse,  for 
no  one  hath  come  to  pay  a  reckoning  for  many  a  day.  Now  busk  thee,  good 
Stutely,  and  choose  thee  six  men,  and  get  thee  gone  to  Fosse 

Robin   Hood  •>  , 

sendeth  Will  Way  or  thereabouts,  and  see  that  thou  bringest  some  one  to  eat 
feUom?n  aol1toX  with  us  this  evening.  Meantime  we  will  prepare  a  grand  feast  to 
seek  a  guest.  £o  whosoever  may  come  the  greater  honor.  And  stay,  good 
Stutely.  I  would  have  thee  take  Will  Scarlet  with  thee,  for  it  is  meet  that  he 
should  become  acquaint  with  the  ways  of  the  forest." 

"  Now  do  I  thank  thee,  good  master,"  quoth  Stutely,  springing  to  his  feet, 
"  that  thou  hast  chosen  me  for  this  adventure.  Truly,  my  limbs  do  grow  slack 
through  abiding  idly  here.  As  for  two  of  my  six,  I  will  choose  Midge  the  Mil 
ler,  and  Arthur  a  Bland,  for,  as  well  thou  knowest,  good  master,  they  are  stout 
fists  at  the  quarterstaff.  Is  it  not  so,  Little  John  ? " 

At  this  all  laughed  but  Little  John,  and  Robin,  who  twisted  up  his  face. 
"  I  can  speak  for  Midge,"  said  he,  "  and  likewise  for  my  cousin  Scarlet.  This 
very  blessed  morn  I  looked  at  my  ribs  and  found  them  as  many  colors  as  a 
beggar's  cloak." 

So,  having  chosen  four  more  stout  fellows,  Will  Stutely  and  his  band  set 


ROBIN  HOOD  AND  ALLAN  A  DALE.  117 

forth  to  Fosse  Way,  to  find  whether  they  might  not  come  across  some  rich 
guest  to  feast  that  day  in  Sherwood  with  Robin  and  his  band. 

For  all  the   livelong  day  they  abided   near   this   highway.     Each   man  had 
brought  with  him  a  good  store  of  cold  meat  and  a  bottle  of  stout  March  beer  to 
stay  his  stomach  till  the  home-coming.     So  when  high  noontide 
had  come  they  sat  them  down  upon  the  soft  grass,  beneath  a   men  lodge  by  The 
green  and  wide-spreading  hawthorn  bush,  and  held  a  hearty  and    roadside- 
jovial  feast.     After  this,  one  kept  watch  while  the  others  napped,  for  it  was  a 
still  and  sultry  day. 

Thus  they  passed  the  time  pleasantly  enow,  but  no  guest  such  as  they  de 
sired  showed  his  face  in  all  the  time  that  they  lay  hidden  there.  Many  passed 
along  the  dusty  road  in  the  glare  of  the  sun  :  now  it  was  a  bevy  of  chattering 
damsels  merrily  tripping  along ;  now  it  was  a  plodding  tinker  ;  now  a  merry 
shepherd  lad ;  now  a  sturdy  farmer ;  all  gazing  ahead  along  the  road,  uncon 
scious  of  the  seven  stout  fellows  that  lay  hidden  so  near  them.  Such  were  the 
travellers  along  the  way ;  but  fat  abbot,  rich  esquire,  or  money-laden  usurer 
came  there  none. 

At  last  the  sun  began  to  sink  low  in  the  heavens  ;  the  light  grew  red  and 
the  shadows  long.  The  air  grew  full  of  silence,  the  birds  twittered  sleepily, 
and  from  afar  came,  faint  and  clear,  the  musical  song  of  the  milkmaid  calling 
the  kine  home  to  the  milking. 

Then  Stutely  arose  from  where  he  was  lying.     "  A  plague  of  such  ill  luck ! " 
quoth  he.     "  Here  have  we  abided  all  day,  and  no  bird  worth  the  shooting,  so 
to  speak,  hath  come  within  reach  of  our  bolt.     Had  I  gone  forth  on  an  inno 
cent  errand,  I  had  met  a  dozen  stout  priests  or  a  score  of  pursy  money-lenders. 
But  it  is  ever  thus  :  the  dun  deer  are  never  so  scarce  as  when    They  return 
one  has  a  gray  goose  feather  nipped  betwixt  the  fingers.     Come,    a^odwith  empty 
lads,  let  us  pack  up  and  home  again,  say  I."     Accordingly,  the    ^nds. 
others  arose,  and,  coming  forth  from  out  the  thicket,  they  all  turned  their  toes 
back  again  to  Sherwood. 

After  they  had  gone  some  distance,  Will  Stutely,  who  headed  the  party,  sud 
denly  stopped.     "  Hist ! "  quoth  he,  for  his  ears  were  as  sharp  as  those  of  a 
five-year-old   fox.     "Hark,    lads!     Methinks    I    hear   a   sound."    Will  Stutely 
At  this  all  stopped  and  listened  with  bated  breath,   albeit  for   J^J  Of  some 
a   time  they  could   hear  nothing,  their  ears  being  duller  than    one  in  sorrow. 
Stutely's.     At  length  they  heard  a  faint  and  melancholy  sound,  like  some  one 
in  lamentation. 

"  Ha  !  "  quoth  Will  Scarlet,  "  this  must  be  looked  into.  There  is  some  one 
in  distress  nigh  to  us  here." 

"  I  know  not,"  quoth  Will  Stutely,  shaking  his  head  doubtfully,  "our  master 


U8  ROBIN  HOOD  AND  ALLAN  A  DALE. 

is  ever  rash  about  thrusting  his  finger  into  a  boiling  pot ;  but,  for  my  part,  I 
see  no  use  in  getting  ourselves  into  mischievous  coils.  Yon  is  a  man's  voice, 
if  I  mistake  not,  and  a  man  should  be  always  ready  to  get  himself  out  from  his 
own  pothers."  Thus  spoke  Will  Stutely,  yet,  in  truth,  only  half  meant  what  he 
said.  Nevertheless,  since  he  had  escaped  so  narrowly  from  out  the  Sheriff's 
clutches  he  had  grown  somewhat  over-cautious. 

Then  out  spake  Will  Scarlet  boldly.  "  Now  out  upon  thee,  to  talk  in  that 
manner,  Stutely  !  Stay,  if  thou  dost  list.  I  go  to  see  what  may  be  the  trouble 
of  this  poor  creature." 

"  Nay,"  quoth  Stutely,  "  thou  dost  leap  so  quickly  thou  'It  tumble  into  the 
ditch.  Who  said  I  would  not  go  ?  Come  along,  say  I."  Thus  saying,  he  led 
the  way,  the  others  following,  till,  after  they  had  gone  a  short  distance,  they 
came  to  a  little  opening  in  the  woodland,  whence  a  brook,  after  gurgling  out 
from  under  the  tangle  of  overhanging  bushes,  spread  out  into  a  broad  and 
They  find  a  glassy  pebbled  pool.  By  the  side  of  this  pool,  and  beneath  the 
youth  weeping  Branches  of  a  willow,  lay  a  youth  upon  his  face,  weeping  aloud, 

beside  a  Joim-  r    o 

tain.  the  sound  of  which  had  first  caught  the  quick  ears  of  Stutely. 

His  golden  locks  were  tangled,  his  clothes  were  all  awry,  and  everything  about 
him  betokened  sorrow  and  woe.  Over  his  head,  from  the  branches  of  the 
osier,  hung  a  beautiful  harp  of  polished  wood  inlaid  with  gold  and  silver  in 
fantastic  devices.  Beside  him  lay  a  stout  ashen  bow  and  half  a  score  of  fair, 
smooth  arrows. 

"Halloa!"  shouted  Will  Stutely,  when  they  had  come  out  from  the  forest 
into  the  little  open  spot.  "  Who  art  thou,  fellow,  that  liest  there  killing  all  the 
green  grass  with  salt  water  ?  " 

Hearing  the  voice,  the  stranger  sprang  to  his  feet,  and,  snatching  up  his  bow 
and  fitting  a  shaft,  held  himself  in  readiness  for  whatever  ill  might  befall  him. 

"  Truly,"  said  one  of  the  yeomen,  when  they  had  seen  the  young  stranger's 
face,  "  I  do  know  that  lad  right  well.  He  is  a  certain  minstrel  that  I  have  seen 
hereabouts  more  than  once.  It  was  only  a  week  ago  I  saw  him  skipping  across 
the  hill  like  a  yearling  doe.  A  fine  sight  he  was  then,  with  a  flower  at  his  ear 
and  a  cock's  plume  stuck  in  his  cap ;  but  now,  methinks,  our  cockerel  is  shorn 
of  his  gay  feathers." 

"  Pah ! "  cried  Will  Stutely,  coming  up  to  the  stranger,  "  wipe  thine  eyes 
man  !  I  do  hate  to  see  a  tall,  stout  fellow  so  snivelling  like  a  girl  of  fourteen 
over  a  dead  tomtit.  Put  down  thy  bow,  man  !  we  mean  thee  no  harm." 

But  Will  Scarlet,  seeing  how  the  stranger,  who  had  a  young  and  boyish  look, 
was  stung  by  the  words  that  Stutely  had  spoken,  came  to  him  and  put  his  hand 
upon  the  youth's  shoulder.  "  Nay,  thou  art  in  trouble,  poor  boy  ! "  said  he, 
kindly.  "  Mind  not  what  these  fellows  have  said.  They  are  rough,  but  they 


ROBIN  HOOD  AND  ALLAN  A   DALE.  119 

mean  thee  well.  Mayhap  they  do  not  understand  a  lad  like  thee.  Thou  shalt 
come  with  us,  and  perchance  we  may  find  a  certain  one  that  can  aid  thee  in  thy 
perplexities,  whatsoever  they  may  be." 

"  Yea,  truly,  come  along,"  said  Will  Stutely,  gruffly.  "  I  meant  thee  no 
harm,  and  may  mean  thee  some  good.  Take  down  thy  singing  tool  from  off 
this  fair  tree,  and  away  with  us." 

The  youth  did  as  he  was  bidden,  and,  with  bowed  head  and  sorrowful  step, 
accompanied  the  others,  walking  beside  Will  Scarlet. 

So  they  wended  their  way  through  the  forest.  The  bright  light  faded  from 
the  sky  and  a  glimmering  gray  fell  over  all  things.  From  the  The  sorrowful 
deeper  recesses  of  the  forest  the  strange  whispering  sounds  of  "with'fLm^iiito 
night-time  came  to  the  ear  ;  all  else  was  silent,  saving  only  for  the  the  forest. 
rattling  of  their  footsteps  amid  the  crisp,  dry  leaves  of  the  last  winter.  At  last 
a  ruddy  glow  shone  before  them  here  and  there  through  the  trees  ;  a  little  far 
ther  and  they  came  to  the  open  glade,  now  bathed  in  the  pale  moonlight.  In 
the  centre  of  the  open  crackled  a  great  fire,  throwing  a  red  glow  on  all  around. 
At  the  fire  were  roasting  juicy  steaks  of  venison,  pheasants,  capons,  and  fresh 
fish  from  the  river.  All  the  air  was  filled  with  the  sweet  smell  of  good  things 
cooking. 

The  little  band  made  its  way  across  the  glade,  many  yeomen  turning  with 
curious  looks  and  gazing  after  them,  but  none  speaking  or  questioning  them. 
So,  with  Will  Scarlet  upon  one '  side  and  Will  Stutely  upon  the  other,  the 
stranger  came  to  where  Robin  Hood  sat  on  a  seat  of  moss  under  the  green 
wood  tree,  with  Little  John  standing  beside  him. 

"  Good  even,  fair  friend,"  said  Robin  Hood,  rising  as  the  other  drew  near- 
"  And  hast  thou  come  to  feast  with  me  this  day  ? " 

"  Alas  !  I  know  not,"  said  the  lad,  looking  around  him  with  dazed  eyes,  for 
he  was  bewildered  with  all  that  he  saw.     "  Truly,  I  know  not    The  sorrowful 
whether  I  be  in  a  dream,"  said  he  to  himself  in  a  low  voice.  Bought  llfore 

"Nay,  marry,"  quoth  jolly  Robin,  laughing;  "thou  art  awake,    Robin  Hood. 
as  thou  wilt  presently  find,  for  a  fine  feast  is  a-cooking  for  thee.     Thou  art  our 
honored  guest  this  day." 

Still  the  young  stranger  looked  about  him,  as  though  in  a  dream.  Presently 
he  turned  to  Robin.  "  Methinks,"  said  he,  "  I  know  now  where  I  am  and  what 
hath  befallen  me.  Art  not  thou  the  great  Robin  Hood  ? " 

"  Thou  hast  hit  the  bull's  eye,"  quoth  Robin,  clapping  him  upon  the  shoul 
der.  "  Men  hereabouts  do  call  me  by  that  name.  Sin'  thou  knowest  me,  thou 
knowest  also  that  he  who  feasteth  with  me  must  pay  his  reckoning.  I  trust 
thou  hast  a  full  purse  with  thee,  fair  stranger." 

"  Alas !  "  said  the  stranger,  "  I  have  no  purse  nor  no  money  either,  saving 


I2o  ROBIN  HOOD  AND  ALLAN  A   DALE. 

only  the  half  of  a  sixpence,  the  other  half  of  which  mine  own  dear  love  doth 
carry  in  her  bosom,  hung  about  her  neck  by  a  strand  of  silken  thread." 

At  this  speech  a  great  shout  of  laughter  went  up  from  those  around,  whereat 
the  poor  boy  looked  as  he  would  die  of  shame  ;  but  Robin  Hood  turned 
sharply  to  Will  Stutely.  "  Why,  how  now,"  quoth  he,  "  is  this  the  guest  that 
thou  hast  brought  us  to  fill  our  purse  ?  Methinks  thou  hast  brought  but  a  lean 
cock  to  the  market." 

"  Nay,  good  master,"  answered  Will  Stutely,  grinning,  "  he  is  no  guest  of 
mine  ;  it  was  Will  Scarlet  that  brought  him  thither.  Nevertheless,  as  thou 
mayst  remember  a  certain  talk  this  morning  of  duty  and  what  not  being  better 
than  a  penny  plucked  from  the  dust,  methinks  here  is  a  fine  chance  for  prac 
tising  charity." 

Then  up  spoke  Will  Scarlet,  and  told  how  they  had  found  the  lad  in  sorrow, 
and  how  he  had  brought  him  to  Robin,  thinking  that  he  might  perchance  aid 
him  in  his  trouble.  Then  Robin  Hood  turned  to  the  youth,  and,  placing  his 
hand  upon  the  other's  shoulder,  held  him  off  at  arm's  length,  scanning  his 
face  closely. 

"  A  young  face,"  quoth  he  in  a  low  voice,  half  to  himself,  "  a  kind  face,  a 
good  face.  'T  is  like  a  maiden's  for  purity,  and,  withal,  the  fairest  that  e'er 
mine  eyes  did  see ;  but,  if  I  may  judge  fairly  by  thy  looks,  grief  cometh  to 
young  as  well  as  to  old."  At  these  words,  spoken  so  kindly,  the  poor  lad's 
eyes  brimmed  up  with  tears.  "  Nay,  nay,"  said  Robin,  hastily,  "  cheer  up,  lad  ; 
I  warrant  thy  case  is  not  so  bad  that  it  cannot  be  mended.  What  may  be  thy 
name  ? " 

"Allan  a  Dale  is  my  name,  good  master." 

"  Allan  a  Dale,"  repeated  Robin,  musing.  "  Allan  a  Dale.  It  doth  seem  to 
me  that  the  name  is  not  altogether  strange  to  mine  ears.  Yea,  surely  thou  art 
the  minstrel  of  whom  we  have  been  hearing  lately,  whose  voice  so  charmeth 
all  men.  Dost  thou  not  come  from  the  Dale  of  Rotherstream,  over  beyond 
Stavely?" 

"  Yea,  truly,"  answered  Allan,  "  I  do  come  thence." 

"  How  old  art  thou,  Allan  ?  "  said  Robin. 

"  I  am  but  twenty  years  of  age." 

"  Methinks  thou  art  over  young  to  be  perplexed  with  trouble,"  quoth  Robin, 
kindly ;  then,  turning  to  the  others,  he  cried,  "  Come,  lads,  busk  ye  and  get 
our  feast  ready  ;  only  thou,  Will  Scarlet,  and  thou,  Little  John,  stay  here  with 
me." 

Then,  when  the  others  had  gone,  each  man  about  his  business,  Robin  turned 
once  more  to  the  youth.  "  Now,  lad,"  said  he,  "tell  us  thy  troubles,  and  speak 
freely.  A  flow  of  words  doth  ever  ease  the  heart  of  sorrows  ;  it  is  like  opening 


ROBIN  HOOD  AND  ALLAN  A  DALE.  I2i 

the  waste  weir  when  the  mill-dam  is  over  full.  Come,  sit  thou  here  beside  me, 
and  speak  at  thine  ease." 

Then  straightway  the  youth  told  the  three  yeomen  all  that  was  in  his  heart ; 
Allan  a  Dale  at  first  in  broken  words  and  phrases,  then  freely  and  with  greater 
tetteth  his  story.  ease  when  he  saw  that  all  listened  closely  to  what  he  said.  So 
he  told  them  how  he  had  come  from  York  to  the  sweet  vale  of  Rother,  travel 
ling  the  country  through  as  a  minstrel,  stopping  now  at  castle,  now  at  hall,  and 
,  now  at  farmhouse  ;  how  he  had  spent  one  sweet  evening  in  a  certain  broad, 
low  farmhouse,  where  he  sang  before  a  stout  franklin  and  a  maiden  as  pure  and 
lovely  as  the  first  snowdrop  of  spring  ;  how  he  had  played  and  sung  to  her, 
and  how  sweet  Ellen  o'  the  Dale  had  listened  to  him  and  had  loved  him. 
Then,  in  a  low,  sweet  voice,  scarcely  louder  than  a  whisper,  he  told  how  he  had 
watched  for  her  and  met  her  now  and  then  when  she  went  abroad,  but  was  all 
too  afraid  in  her  sweet  presence  to  speak  to  her,  until  at  last,  beside  the  banks 
of  Rother,  he  had  spoken  of  his  love,  and  she  had  whispered  that  which  had 
made  his  heartstrings  quiver  for  joy.  Then  they  broke  a  sixpence  between 
them,  and  vowed  to  be  true  to  one  another  forever. 

Next  he  told  how  her  father  had  discovered  what  was  a-doing,  and  had  taken 
her  away  from  him  so  that  he  never  saw  her  again,  and  his  heart  was  some 
times  like  to  break  ;  how  this  morn,  only  one  short  month  and  a  half  from  the 
time  that  he  had  seen  her  last,  he  had  heard  and  knew  it  to  be  so,  that  she  was 
to  marry  old  Sir  Stephen  of  Trent,  two  days  hence,  for  Ellen's  father  thought 
it  would  be  a  grand  thing  to  have  his  daughter  marry  so  high,  albeit  she  wished 
it  not ;  nor  was  it  wonder  that  a  knight  should  wish  to  marry  his  own  sweet 
love,  who  was  the  most  beautiful  maiden  in  all  the  world. 

To  all  this  the  yeomen  listened  in  silence,  the  clatter  of  many  voices,  jesting 
and  laughing,  sounding  around  them,  and  the  red  light  of  the  fire  shining  on 
their  faces  and  in  their  eyes.  So  simple  were  the  poor  boy's  words,  and  so 
deep  his  sorrow,  that  even  Little  John  felt  a  certain  knotty  lump  rise  in  his 
throat. 

"I  wonder  not,"  said  Robin,  after  a  moment's  silence,  "that  thy  true  love 
loved  thee,  for  thou  hast  surely  a  silver  cross  beneath  thy  tongue,  even  like 
good  Saint  Francis,  that  could  charm  the  birds  of  the  air  by  his  speech." 

"  By  the  breath  of  my  body,"  burst  forth  Little  John,  seeking  to  cover  his 
feelings  with  angry  words,  "  I  have  a  great  part  of  a  mind  to  go  straightway 
and  cudgel  the  nasty  life  out  of  the  body  of  that  same  vile  Sir  Stephen.  Marry, 
come  up,  say  I  —  what  a  plague  —  does  an  old  weazen  think  that  tender  lasses 
are  to  be  bought  like  pullets  o'  a  market  day  ?  Out  upon  him  !  —  I  —  but  no 
matter,  only  let  him  look  to  himself." 

Then  up  spoke  Will  Scarlet.     "  Methinks  it  seemeth  but  ill  done  of  the  lass 


122  ROBIN  HOOD  AND  ALLAN  A   DALE. 

that  she  should  so  quickly  change  at  others'  bidding,  more  especially  when  it 
cometh  to  the  marrying  of  a  man  as  old  as  this  same  Sir  Stephen.  I  like  it 
not  in  her,  Allan." 

"  Nay,"  said  Allan,  hotly,  "  thou  dost  wrong  her.  She  is  as  soft  and  gentle 
as  a  stockdove.  I  know  her  better  than  any  one  in  all  the  world.  She  may  do 
her  father's  bidding,  but  if  she  marries  Sir  Stephen,  her  heart  will  break  and 
she  will  die.  My  own  sweet  dear,  I  "  —  He  stopped  and  shook  his  head,  for 
he  could  say  nothing  further. 

Whilst  the  others  were  speaking,  Robin  Hood  had  been  sunk  in  thought. 
Robin  Hood  de-  "  Methinks  I  have  a  plan  might  fit  thy  case,  Allan,"  said  he. 


loald  AiianTS  "  But  tel1  me  first>  thinkest  thou,  lad,  that  thy  true  love  hath  spirit 
his  troubles.  enough  to  marry  thee  were  ye  together  in  church,  the  banns  pub 
lished,  and  the  priest  found,  even  were  her  father  to  say  her  nay?" 

"  Ay,  marry  would  she,"  cried  Allan,  eagerly. 

"  Then,  if  her  father  be  the  man  that  I  take  him  to  be,  I  will  undertake  that 
he  shall  give  you  both  his  blessing  as  wedded  man  and  wife,  in  the  place  of  old 
Sir  Stephen,  and  upon  his  wedding  morn.  But  stay,  now  I  bethink  me,  there 
is  one  thing  reckoned  not  upon  —  the  priest.  Truly,  those  of  the  cloth  do  not 
love  me  overmuch,  and  when  it  comes  to  doing  as  I  desire  in  such  a  matter, 
they  are  as  like  as  not  to  prove  stiff-necked.  As  to  the  lesser  clergy,  they  fear 
to  do  me  a  favor  because  of  abbot  or  bishop." 

"  Nay,"  quoth  Will  Scarlet,  laughing,  "  so  far  as  that  goeth,  I  know  of  a  cer- 
wui  Scarlet  tell-  tain  friar  that,  couldst  thou  but  get  on  the  soft  side  of  him,  would 
kdyFrtaroftk*  ^°  tnv  business  even  though  Pope  Joan  herself  stood  forth  to  ban 
Fountain.  him.  He  is  known  as  the  Curtal  Friar  of  Fountain  Abbey,  and 

dwelleth  in  Fountain  Dale." 

"  But,"  quoth  Robin,  "  Fountain  Abbey  is  a  good  hundred  miles  from  here. 
An  we  would  help  this  lad,  we  have  no  time  to  go  thither  and  back  before  his 
true  love  will  be  married.  Naught  is  to  be  gained  there,  coz." 

"  Yea,"  quoth  Will  Scarlet,  laughing  again,  "  but  this  Fountain  Abbey  is  not 
so  far  away  as  the  one  of  which  thou  speakest,  uncle.  The  Fountain  Abbey  of 
which  I  speak  is  no  such  rich  and  proud  place  as  the  other,  but  a  simple  little 
cell  ;  yet,  withal,  as  cosy  a  spot  as  ever  stout  anchorite  dwelt  within.  I  know 
the  place  well,  and  can  guide  thee  thither,  for,  though  it  is  a  goodly  distance, 
yet  methinks  a  stout  pair  of  legs  could  carry  a  man  there  and  back  in  one  day." 

"  Then  give  me  thy  hand,  Allan,"  cried  Robin,  "  and  let  me  tell  thee,  I  swear 

Robin  Hood         by  the  bright  hair  of  Saint  ^Elfrida  that  this  time  two  days  hence 

fromiseth  to  aid   Ellen  a  Dale  shall  be  thy  wife.     I  will  seek  this  same  Friar  of 

Fountain  Abbey  to-morrow  day,  and  I  warrant  I  will  get  upon 

the  soft  side  of  him,  even  if  I  have  to  drub  one  soft." 


ROBIN  HOOD  AND  ALLAN  A  DALE.  123 

At  this  Will  Scarlet  laughed  again.  "  Be  not  too  sure  of  that,  good  uncle," 
quoth  he  ;  "  nevertheless,  from  what  I  know  of  him,  I  think  this  curtal  friar  will 
gladly  join  two  such  fair  lovers,  more  especially  if  there  be  good  eating  and 
drinking  afoot  thereafter." 

But  now  one  of  the  band  came  to  say  that  the  feast  was  spread  upon  the 
grass  ;  so,  Robin  leading  the  way,  the  others  followed  to  where  the  goodly 
feast  was  spread.  Merry  was  the  meal.  Jest  and  story  passed  freely,  and  all 
laughed  till  the  forest  rang  again.  Allan  laughed  with  the  rest,  for  his  cheeks 
were  flushed  with  the  hope  that  Robin  Hood  had  given  him. 

At  last  the  feast  was  done,  and  Robin  Hood  turned  to  Allan,  who  sat  beside 
him.  "  Now,  Allan,"  quoth  he,  "  so  much  has  been  said  of  thy  singing  that  we 
would  fain  have  a  taste  of  thy  skill  ourselves.  Canst  thou  not  give  us  some 
thing  ? " 

"Surely,"  answered  Allan,  readily;  for  he  was  no  third-rate  songster  that 
must  be  asked  again  and  again,  but  said  "  yes  "  or  "  no  "  at  the    Allan  a  Dale 
first  bidding ;  so,  taking  up  his  harp,  he  ran  his  fingers  lightly    *ofgMay  EU 
over  the  sweetly-sounding  strings,  and  all  was  hushed  about  the    wedding. 
cloth.     Then,  backing  his  voice  with  sweet  music  on  his  harp,  he  sang 

MA  Y  ELLEN'S  WEDDING. 
(Giving  an  account  of  how  she  was  beloved  by  a  fairy  prince,  who  took  her  to  his  own  home?) 

I. 

"  May  Ellen  sat  beneath  a  thorn, 

And  in  a  shower  around 
The  blossoms  fell  at  every  breeze 

Like  snow  upon  the  ground, 
And  in  a  lime-tree  near  was  heard 
The  sweet  song  of  a  strange,  wild  bird. 

2. 
"  O  sweet,  sweet,  sweet,  O  piercing  sweet, 

O  lingering  sweet  the  strain  ! 
May  Ellen's  heart  within  her  breast 

Stood  still  with  blissful  pain  : 
And  so,  with  listening,  upturned  face, 
She  sat  as  dead  in  that  fair  place. 

3- 

"  '  Come  down  from  out  the  blossoms,  bird! 
Come  down  from  out  the  tree, 


124  ROBIN  HOOD  AND  ALLAN  A   DALE. 

And  on  my  heart  I '//  let  thee  lie, 

And  love  thee  tenderly  ! ' 
Thus  cried  May  Ellen,  soft  and  low, 
From  where  the  hawthorn  shed  its  snow. 

4- 
"  Down  dropped  the  bird  on  quivering  wing, 

From  out  the  blossoming  tree, 
And  nestled  in  her  snowy  breast. 

1  My  love  !  my  love  ! '  cried  she  ; 
Then  straightway  home,  'mid  sun  and  flower, 
She  bare  him  to  her  own  sweet  bower. 

5- 
"  The  day  hath  passed  to  mellow  night, 

The  moon  floats  o'er  the  tea. 
And  in  its  solemn,  pallid  light 

A  youth  stands  silently  : 
A  youth  of  beauty  strange  and  rare, 
Within  May  Ellerfs  bower  there. 

6. 

"  He  stood  where  o'er  the  pavement  cold 

The  glimmering  moonbeams  lay. 
May  Ellen  gazed  with  wide,  scared  eyes, 

Nor  could  she  turn  away, 
For,  as  in  mystic  dreams  we  see 
A  spirit,  stood  he  silently. 

7- 
"  All  in  a  low  and  breathless  voice, 

(  Whence  earnest  thou  ? '  said  she  ; 
1  Art  thou  the  creature  of  a  dream, 

Or  a  vision  that  I  see  ?  ' 
Then  soft  spake  he,  as  night  winds  shiver 
Through  straining  reeds  beside  the  river. 


8. 
'  I  came,  a  bird  on  feathered  wing, 

From  distant  Faery  land 
Where  murmuring  waters  softly  sing 

Upon  the  golden  strand, 
\ 


ROBIN  HOOD  AND  ALLAN  A   DALE.  I25 

Where  sweet  trees  are  forever  green  ; 
And  there  my  mother  is  the  queen' 


"  No  more  May  Ellen  leaves  her  bower 

To  grace  the  blossoms  fair  ; 
But  in  the  hushed  and  midnight  hour 

They  hear  her  talking  there, 
Or,  when  the  moon  is  shining  white, 
They  hear  her  singing  through  the  night. 

10. 
"  '  Oh  don  thy  silks  and  jewels  fine? 

May  Ellen's  mother  said, 
'for  hither  comes  the  Lord  of  Lyne 

And  thou  this  lord  must  wed.' 
May  Ellen  said,  '  //  may  not  be. 
He  ne'er  shall  find  his  wife  in  me.' 

n. 

"  Up  spoke  her  brother,  dark  and  grim  : 

'  Now  by  the  bright  blue  sky  : 
E'er  yet  a  day  hath  gone  for  him 

Thy  wicked  bird  shall  die  ! 
For  he  hath  wrought  thee  bitter  harm, 
By  some  strange  art  or  cunning  charm? 

12. 

"  Then,  with  a  sad  and  mournful  song, 

Away  the  bird  did  fly, 
And  o'er  the  castle  eaves,  and  through 

The  gray  and  windy  sky. 
'  Come  forth  /'  then  cried  the  brother  grim, 
'  Why  dost  thou-gaze  so  after  him  ?  ' 


"  //  is  May  Ellen's  wedding  day, 

The  sky  is  blue  and  fair, 
And  many  a  lord  and  lady  gay 
In  church  are  gathered  there. 
The  bridegroom  was  Sir  Hugh  the  Bold, 
All  clad  in  silk  and  cloth  of  gold. 


126  ROBIN  HOOD  AND  ALLAN  A  DALE. 

14. 

"  In  came  the  Bride  in  samite  white, 

With  a  white  wreath  on  her  head  ; 
Her  eyes  were  fixed  with  a  glassy  look, 

Her  face  was  as  the  dead, 
And  when  she  stood  among  the  throng, 
She  sang  a  wild  and  wondrous  song. 

15- 

"  Then  came  a  strange  and  rushing  sound 

Like  the  coming  wind  doth  bring, 
And  in  the  open  windows  shot 

Nine  swans  on  whistling  wing, 
And  high  above  the  heads  they  flew, 
In  gleaming  flight  the  darkness  through. 

16. 
"  Around  May  Ellen's  head  they  flew 

In  wide  and  windy  flight, 
And  three  times  round  the  circle  drew. 

The  guests  shrank  in  affright, 
And  the  Priest  beside  the  altar  there, 
Did  cross  himself  with  muttered  prayer. 


"  But  the  third  time  they  flew  around, 

Fair  Ellen  straight  was  gone, 
And  in  her  place,  upon  the  ground, 
There  stood  a  snow-white  swan. 
Then,  with  a  wild  and  lovely  song, 
It  joined  the  swift  and  winged  throng. 

18. 

"  There  's  ancient  men  at  weddings  been, 

For  sixty  years  and  more, 
But  such  a  wondrous  wedding  day, 

They  never  saw  before. 
But  none  could  check  and  none  could  stay, 
The  swans  that  bore  the  Bride  away." 

Not  a  sound  broke  the  stillness  when  Allan  a  Dale  had  done,  but  all  sat 
gazing  at  the  handsome  singer,  for  so  sweet  was  his  voice  and  so  sweet  the 


ROBIN  HOOD  AND  ALLAN  A  DALE.  127 

music  that  each  man  sat  with  bated  breath,  lest  one  drop  more  should  come 
and  he  should  lose  it. 

"  By  my  faith  and  my  troth,"  quoth  Robin  at  last,  drawing  a  deep  breath, 
"  lad,  thou  art  —    Thou  must  not  leave  our  company,  Allan  !    Allan  a  Dale 
Wilt   thou   not  stay  with   us  here  in  the  sweet  green  forest?  ^"ke  m/nsfre? 
Truly,  I  do  feel  my  heart  go  out  toward  thee  with  great  love."         to  Robin  Hood. 

Then  Allan  took  Robin's  hand  and  kissed  it.  "  I  will  stay  with  thee  always, 
dear  master,"  said  he,  "for  never  have  I  known  such  kindness  as  thou  hast 
shown  me  this  day." 

Then  Will  Scarlet  stretched  forth  his  hand  and  shook  Allan's  in  token  of 
fellowship,  as  did  Little  John  likewise.  And  thus  the  famous  Allan  a  Dale 
became  one  of  Robin  Hood's  band. 


II. 

Robin  seeketh  the  Curtal  Friar  of  the 

Fountain. 

THE  stout  yeomen  of  Sherwood  Forest  were  ever  early  risers  of  a  morn, 
more  especially  when  the  summer  time  had  come,  for  then  in  the  fresh 
ness  of  the  dawn  the  dew  was  always  the  brightest,  and  the  song  of  the 
small  birds  the  sweetest. 

Quoth  Robin,  "  Now  will  I  go  to  seek  this  same  Friar  of  Fountain  Abbey  of 
whom  we  spake  yesternight,  and  I  will  take  with  me  four  of  my  good  men,  and 
these  four  shall  be  Little  John,  Will  Scarlet,  David  of  Doncaster,  and  Arthur 
a  Bland.  Bide  the  rest  of  you  here,  and  Will  Stutely  shall  be  your  chief  whilst 
I  am  gone." 

Then  straightway  Robin  Hood  donned  a  fine  steel  coat  of  chain  mail,  over 
which  he  put  on  a  light  jacket  of  Lincoln  green.  Upon  his  head  he  clapped  a 
steel  cap,  and  this  he  covered  by  one  of  soft  white  leather,  in  which  stood  a 
nodding  cock's  plume.  By  his  side  he  hung  a  good  broadsword  of  tempered 
steel,  the  bluish  blade  marked  all  over  with  strange  figures  of  dragons,  winged 
women,  and  what  not.  A  gallant  sight  was  Robin  so  arrayed,  I  wot,  the  glint 
of  steel  showing  here  and  there  as  the  sunlight  caught  brightly  the  links  of 
polished  mail  that  showed  beneath  his  green  coat. 

So,  having  arrayed  himself,  he  and  the  four  yeomen  set  forth  upon  their  way, 
,  Will  Scarlet  taking  the  lead,  for  he  knew  better  than  the  others 

Aobtn  Hood  and  ° 

four  of  his  yeo-  whither  to  go.  Thus,  mile  after  mile,  they  strode  along,  now 
™outitamDaie°to  across  a  brawling  stream,  "now  along  a  sunlit  road,  now  adown 
seek  the^  Friar  of  SOme  sweet  forest  path,  over  which  the  trees  met  in  green  and 
rustling  canopy,  and  at  the  end  of  which  a  herd  of  startled  deer 
dashed  away,  with  rattle  of  leaves  and  crackle  of  branches.  Onward  they 
walked  with  song  and  jest  and  laughter  till  high  noontide  was  passed,  when  at 
last  they  came  to  the  banks  of  a  wide,  glassy,  and  lily-padded  stream.  Here  a 
broad  beaten  path  stretched  along  beside  the  banks,  on  which  path  labored  the 
horses  that  tugged  at  the  slow  moving  barges,  laden  with  barley-meal  or  what 
not,  from  the  countryside  to  the  many-towered  town.  But  now,  in  the  hot 


ROBIN  SEEKETH  THE  CURTAL  FRIAR  OF  THE  FOUNTAIN.      129 

silence  of  the  midday,  no  horse  was  seen  nor  any  man  beside  themselves.  Be 
hind  them  and  before  them  stretched  the  river,  its  placid  bosom  ruffled  here 
and  there  by  the  purple  dusk  of  a  small  breeze.  Sweet  green  osiers  bordered 
the  banks,  and  far  away  the  red-tiled  eaves  of  some  tall  tcwer  glimmered  in  the 
sun,  the  weather-vane  a  spark  against  the  blue  sky.  And  now  they  travelled 
more  easily,  for  the  road  was  level  and  hard.  Around  them  and  over  the  sur 
face  of  the  water  skimmed  and  dipped  the  swallows,  gay  dragon-flies  darted 
hither  and  thither  glistening  in  the  sun,  and  now  and  then  a  solitary  heron  rose 
splashing  and  with  startled  cry  from  its  hiding  place  among  the  reeds  and 
sedges  that  grew  in  the  shallow  margin  of  the  stream. 

"  Now,  good  uncle,"  quoth  Will  Scarlet  at  last,  when  they  had  walked  for  a 
long  time  beside  this  sweet  bright  river,  "just  beyond  yon  bend  ahead  of  us  is 
a  shallow  ford  which  in  no  place  is  deeper  than  thy  mid-thigh,  and  upon  the 
other  side  of  the  stream  is  a  certain  little  hermitage  hidden  amidst  the  bosky 
tangle  of  the  thickets  wherein  dwelleth  the  Friar  of  Fountain  Dale.  Thither 
will  I  lead  thee,  for  I  know  the  way ;  albeit  it  is  not  overhard  to  find." 

"  Nay,"  quoth  jolly  Robin,  stopping  suddenly,  "  had  I  thought  that  I  should 
have  had  to  wade  water,  even  were  it  so  crystal  a  stream  as  this,  I  had  donned 
other  clothes  than  I  have  upon  me.  But  no  matter  now,  for  after  all  a  wetting 
will  not  wash  the  skin  away,  and  what  must  be  must.  But  bide  ye  here,  lads, 
for  I  would  enjoy  this  merry  adventure  alone.  Nevertheless,  listen  well,  and 
if  ye  hear  me  sound  upon  my  bugle-horn,  come  quickly." 

"'Tis  ever  thus,"  said  Little  John,  half  muttering;  "thou  dost  alway  seek 
these  ventures  alone,  whilst  we,  whose  lives  are  but  of  small  worth  beside  thine, 
and  who  would  be  but  too  glad  to  enter  upon  them,  must  sit,  as  it  were,  twid 
dling  our  thumbs  in  idleness." 

"  Nay,  Little  John,"  quoth  jolly  Robin,  "  this  venture,  I  wot,  is  without  dan 
ger  to  me.     I  know  thou  art  overready  to  peril  thyself  ;  never-   RMn  ffgod 
theless,  bide  thou  here  this  time  as  I  bid  thee."     So  saying  he   leaveth  his  men 

,  behind  him  and 

turned  and  left  them,  striding  onward  alone.  goeth  forward 

Robin  had  walked  no  farther  than  where  the  bend  of  the  road 
hid  his  good  men  from  his  view,  when  he  stopped  suddenly,  for 
he  thought  that  he  heard  voices.  He  stood  still  and  listened,  and  presently 
heard  words  passed  back  and  forth  betwixt  what  seemed  to  be  two  men,  and 
yet  the  two  voices  were  wondrously  alike.  The  sound  came  from  over  behind 
the  bank,  that  here  was  steep  and  high,  dropping  from  the  edge  of  the  road  a 
half  a  score  of  feet  to  the  sedgy  verge  of  the  river. 

"  'T  is  strange,"  muttered  Robin  to  himself  after  a  space,  when  the  voices  had 
ceased  their  talking  ;  "surely  there  be  two  people  that  spoke  the   Robin  heareth 
one  to  the  other,  and  yet  methinks  their  voices  are  mightily  alike.    ***»**'' 

9 


130    ROBIN  SEEKETH  THE  CURTAL  FRIAR  OF  THE  FOUNTAIN. 

I  make  my  vow  that  never  have  I  heard  the  like  in  all  my  life  before.  Truly, 
if  this  twain  are  to  be  judged  by  their  voices  no  two  peas  were  ever  more  alike. 
I  will  look  into  this  matter."  So  saying,  he  came  softly  to  the  river  bank,  and 
laying  him  down  upon  the  grass  peered  over  the  edge  and  down  below. 

All  was  cool  and  shady  beneath  the  bank.  A  stout  osier  grew,  not  straight 
upward,  but  leaning  across  the  water,  shadowing  the  spot  with  its  soft  foliage. 
All  around  grew  a  mass  of  feathery  ferns  such  as  hide  and  nestle  in  cool  places, 
and  up  to  Robin's  nostrils  came  the  tender  odor  of  the  wild 
SJtVS  thyme,  that  loves  the  moist  verges  of  running  streams.  Here, 
Friar  feasting  -^  fas  broad  back  against  the  rugged  trunk  of  the  willow  tree, 

beneath  the 

shadow  of  the  and  half  hidden  by  the  soft  ferns  around  him,  sat  a  stout,  brawny 
fellow,  but  no  other  man  was  there.  His  head  was  as  round  as  a 
ball,  and  covered  with  a  mat  of  close- clipped  curly  black  hair  that  grew  low 
down  on  his  forehead.  But  his  crown  was  shorn  as  smooth  as  the  palm  of 
one's  hand,  which,  together  with  his  loose  robe,  cowl,  and  string  of  beads, 
showed  that  which  his  looks  never  would  have  done,  that  he  was  a  Friar.  His 
cheeks  were  as  red  and  shining  as  a  winter  crab,  albeit  they  were  nearly  cov 
ered  over  with  a  close  curly  black  beard,  as  were  his  chin  and  upper  lip  like 
wise.  His  neck  was  thick  like  that  of  a  north  country  bull,  and  his  round  head 
closely  set  upon  shoulders  e'en  a  match  for  those  of  Little  John  himself.  Be 
neath  his  bushy  black  brows  danced  a  pair  of  little  gray  eyes  that  could  not 
stand  still  for  very  drollery  of  humor.  No  man  could  look  into  his  face  and 
not  feel  his  heartstrings  tickled  by  the  merriment  of  their  look.  By  his  side 
lay  a  steel  cap,  which  he  had  laid  off  for  the  sake  of  the  coolness  to  his  crown. 
His  legs  were  stretched  wide  apart,  and  betwixt  his  knees  he  held  a  great  pasty 
compounded  of  juicy  meats  of  divers  kinds  made  savory  with  tender  young 
onions,  both  meat  and  onions  being  mingled  with  a  good  rich  gravy.  In  his 
right  fist  he  held  a  great  piece  of  brown  crust  at  which  he  munched  sturdily, 
and  every  now  and  then  he  thrust  his  left  hand  into  the  pie  and  drew  it  forth 
full  of  meat ;  anon  he  would  take  a  mighty  pull  at  a  great  bottle  of  Malmsley 
that  lay  beside  him. 

"By  my  faith,"  quoth  Robin  to  himself,  "I  do  verily  believe  that  this  is  the 
merriest  feast,  the  merriest  wight,  the  merriest  place,  and  the  merriest  sight  in 
all  merry  England.  Methought  there  was  another  here,  but  it  must  have  been 
this  holy  man  talking  to  himself." 

So  Robin  lay  watching  the  Friar,  and  the  Friar,  all  unknowing  that  he  was 
so  overlooked,  ate  his  meal  placidly.  At  last  he  was  done,  and,  having  first 
wiped  his  greasy  hands  upon  the  ferns  and  wild  thyme  (and  sweeter  napkin 
ne'er  had  king  in  all  the  world),  he  took  up  his  flask  and  began  talking  to  him 
self  as  though  he  were  another  man,  and  answering  himself  as  though  he  were 
somebody  else. 


ROBIN  SEEKETH  THE  CURTAL  FRIAR  OF  THE  FOUNTAIN.     131 

"  Dear  lad,  thou  art  the  sweetest  fellow  in  all  the  world,  I  do  love  thee  as  a 
lover  loveth  his  lass.  La,  thou  dost  make  me  shamed  to  speak  so  The  Friar  taik- 
to  me  in  this  solitary  place,  no  one  being  by,  and  yet  if  thou  wilt  eth  to  &*"&• 
have  me  say  so,  I  do  love  thee  as  thou  lovest  me.  Nay  then,  wilt  thou  not 
take  a  drink  of  good  Malmsey  ?  After  thee,  lad,  after  thee.  Nay,  I  beseech 
thee,  sweeten  the  draught  with  thy  lips  (here  he  passed  the  flask  from  his 
right  hand  to  his  left).  An  thou  wilt  force  it  on  me  so  I  must  needs  do  thy 
bidding,  yet  with  the  more  pleasure  do  I  so  as  I  drink  thy  very  great  health 
(here  he  took  a  long,  deep  draught).  And  now,  sweet  lad,  't  is  thy  turn  next 
(here  he  passed  the  bottle  from  his  left  hand  back  again  to  his  right).  I  take 
it,  sweet  chuck,  and  here  's  wishing  thee  as  much  good  as  thou  wishest  me." 
Saying  this  he  took  another  draught,  and  truly  he  drank  enough  for  two. 

All  this  time  merry  Robin  lay  upon  the  bank  and  listened,  while  his  stomach 
so  quaked  with  laughter  that  he  was  forced  to  press  his  palm  across  his  mouth 
to  keep  it  from  bursting  forth  ;  for,  truly,  he  would  not  have  spoiled  such  a 
goodly  jest  for  the  half  of  Nottinghamshire. 

Having  gotten  his  breath  from  his  last  draught,  the  Friar  began  talking 
again  in  this  wise  :  "  Now,  sweet  lad,  canst  thou  not  sing  me  a  song  ?  La,  I 
know  not,  I  am  but  in  an  ill  voice  this  day  ;  prythee  ask  me  not  ;  dost  thou 
not  hear  how  I  croak  like  a  frog  ?  Nay,  nay,  thy  voice  is  as  sweet  as  any  bull 
finch  ;  come,  sing,  I  prythee,  I  would  rather  hear  thee  sing  than  eat  a  fair  feast. 
Alas,  I  would  fain  not  sing  before  one  that  can  pipe  so  well  and  hath  heard  so 
many  goodly  songs  and  ballads,  ne'ertheless,  an  thou  wilt  have  it  so,  I  will  do  my 
best.  But  now  methinks  that  thou  and  I  might  sing  some  fair  song  together  ; 
dost  thou  not  know  a  certain  dainty  little  catch  called  "  The  Loving  Youth  and 
the  Scornful  Maid"?  Why,  truly,  methinks  I  have  heard  it  ere  now.  Then 
dost  thou  not  think  that  thou  couldst  take  the  lass's  part  gif  I  take  The  Friar  sing- 
the  lad's  ?  I  know  not  but  I  will  try  ;  begin  thou  with  the  lad 


and  I  will  follow  with  the  lass."  Lffv*ns  Youth 

,  rr          j  •        afl"  *"e  Scornful 

Then,  singing  first  with  a  voice  deep  and  grurr,  and  anon  in    Maid"  in  two 
one  high  and  squeaking,  he  blithely  trolled  the  merry  catch  of 

THE  LOVING    YOUTH  AND    THE  SCORNFUL   MAID. 

HE. 
"  Ah,  it  's  wilt  thou  come  with  me,  my  love  ? 

And  it  's  wilt  thou,  love,  be  mine  ? 
For  I  will  give  unto  thee,  my  love, 
Gay  knots  and  ribbons  so  fine. 
I  '//  woo  thee,  love,  on  my  bended  knee, 
And  I  'II  pipe  sweet  songs  to  none  but  thee. 


132      ROBIN  SEEKETH  THE  CURTAL  FRIAR  OF  THE  FOUNTAIN. 

Then  it 's  hark  !  hark  !  hark  I 

To  the  winged  lark. 
And  it 's  hark  to  the  cooing  dove! 

And  the  bright  daffodil 

Groweth  down  by  the  rill, 
So  come  thou  and  be  my  love. 

SHE. 
"  Now  get  thee  away,  young  man  so  fine  ; 

Now  get  thee  away,  I  say  ; 
For  my  true  love  shall  never  be  thine, 

And  so  thou  hadst  better  not  stay. 
Thou  art  not  a  fine  enough  lad  for  me, 
So  I '//  wait  till  a  better  young  man  I  see. 
For  it 's  hark  I  hark  !  hark  ! 

To  the  winged  lark, 
And  it 's  hark  to  the  cooing  dove  ! 
And  the  bright  daffodil 
Groweth  down  by  the  rill, 
Yet  never  I '//  be  thy  love. 

HE. 
"  Then  straight  will  I  seek  for  another  fair  she, 

For  many  a  maid  can  be  found, 
And  as  thou  wilt  never  have  aught  of  me, 

By  thee  will  I  never  be  bound. 
For  never  is  a  blossom  in  the  field  so  rare, 
But  others  are  found  that  are  just  as  fair. 
So  it 's  hark  !  hark  !  hark  / 

To  the  joyous  lark, 
And  it  '.$•  hark  to  the  cooing  dove  ! 
And  the  bright  daffodil 
Groweth  down  by  the  rill, 
And  I'll  seek  me  another  dear  Jove. 

SHE. 
"  Young  man,  turn  not  so  very  quick  away 

Another  fair  lass  to  find. 
Methinks  I  have  spoken  in  haste  to-day, 

Nor  have  I  made  up  my  mind, 
And  if  thou  only  wilt  stay  with  me, 
I '//  love  no  other,  sweet  lad,  but  thee." 


ROBIN  SEEKETH  THE  CURTAL  FRIAR  OF  THE  FOUNTAIN.      133 

Here  Robin  could  contain  himself  no  longer  but  burst  forth  into  a  mighty 
roar  of  laughter  ;  then,  the  holy  Friar  keeping  on  with  the  song,    Kobin  Hood 
he  joined  in  the  chorus,  and  together  they  sang,  or,  as  one  might  ^"^"^sin 
say,  bellowed  :  —  ing. 

"  So  it 's  hark  !  hark  !  hark  ! 

To  the  joyous  lark, 
And  it 's  hark  to  the  cooing  dove  ! 
For  the  bright  daffodil 
Groweth  down  by  the  rill, 
And  I'll  be  thine  own  true  love." 

So  they  sang  together,  for  the  stout  Friar  did  not  seem  to  have  heard  Robin's 
laughter,  neither  did  he  seem  to  know  that  the  yeoman  had  joined  in  with  the 
song,  but,  with  eyes  half  closed,  looking  straight  before  him  and  wagging  his 
round  head  from  side  to  side  in  time  to  the  music,  he  kept  on  bravely  to  the 
end,  he  and  Robin  finishing  up  with  a  mighty  roar  that  might  have  been  heard 
a  mile.  But  no  sooner  had  the  last  word  been  sung  than  the  holy  man  seized 
his  steel  cap,  clapped  it  on  his  head,  and  springing  to  his  feet  . 

cried  in  a  great  voice,  "  What  spy  have  we  here  ?     Come  forth,    threatens  Robin 
thou  limb  of  evil,  and  I  will  carve  thee  into  as  fine  pudding-meat   wtth  dtre  *IL 
as  e'er  a  wife  in  Yorkshire  cooked  of  a  Sunday."     Hereupon  he  drew  from  be 
neath  his  robes  a  great  broadsword  full  as  stout  as  was  Robin's. 

"  Nay,  put  up  thy  pinking  iron,  friend,"  quoth  Robin,  standing  up  with  the 
tears  of  laughter  still  on  his  cheeks.  "  Folk  who  have  sung  so  sweetly  together 
should  not  fight  thereafter."  Hereupon  he  leaped  down  the  bank  to  where  the 
other  stood.  "I  tell  thee,  friend,"  said  he,  "my  throat  is  as  parched  with  that 
song  as  e'er  a  barley  stubble  in  October.  Hast  thou  haply  any  Malmsey  left 
in  that  stout  pottle  ?  " 

"  Truly,"  said  the  Friar  in  a  glum  voice,  "  thou  dost  ask  thyself  freely  where 
thou  art  not  bidden.  Yet  I  trust  I  am  too  good  a  Christian  to  refuse  any  man 
drink  that  is  athirst.  Such  as  there  is  o't  thou  art  welcome  to  a  drink  of  the 
same."  And  he  held  the  pottle  out  to  Robin. 

Robin  took  it  without  more  ado,  and  putting  it  to  his  lips  tilted  his  head 
back,  while  that  which  was  within  said  "  glug  !  glug !  glug ! "  for  more  than 
three  winks,  I  wot.  The  stout  Friar  watched  Robin  anxiously  the  while,  and 
when  he  was  done  took  the  pottle  quickly.  He  shook  it,  held  it  betwixt  his 
eyes  and  the  light,  looked  reproachfully  at  the  yeoman,  and  straightway  placed 
it  at  his  own  lips.  When  it  came  away  again  there  was  naught  within  it. 

"  Dost  thou  know  the  country  hereabouts,  thou  good  and  holy  man  ? "  asked 
Robin,  laughing. 


134      ROBIN  SEEKETH  THE  CURTAL  FRIAR  OF  THE  FOUNTAIN. 

"  Yea,  somewhat,"  answered  the  other,  dryly. 

"  And  dost  thou  know  of  a  certain  spot  called  Fountain  Abbey  ?  " 

"  Yea,  somewhat." 

"  Then  perchance  thou  knowest  also  of  a  certain  one  who  goeth  by  the  name 
of  the  Curtal  Friar  of  Fountain  Abbey." 

"  Yea,  somewhat." 

"Well  then,  good  fellow,  holy  father,  or  whatever  thou  art,"  quoth  Robin, 
"  I  would  know  whether  this  same  Friar  is  to  be  found  upon  this  side  of  the 
river  or  the  other." 

"  Truly,  the  river  hath  no  side  but  the  other,"  said  the  Friar. 

"  How  dost  thou  prove  that  ?  "  asked  Robin. 

"  Why,  thus  ; "  said  the  Friar,  noting  the  points  upon  his  fingers.  "  The 
other  side  of  the  river  is  the  other,  thou  grantest  ? " 

The  Friar  argu- 

eth  quaintly  "  Yea,  truly." 

"**  Robin'  «  Yet  tne  other  side  is  but  one  side,  thou  dost  mark  ?  " 

"  No  man  could  gainsay  that,"  said  Robin. 

"  Then  if  the  other  side  is  one  side,  this  side  is  the  other  side.  But  the  other 
side  is  the  other  side,  therefore  both  sides  of  the  river  are  the  other  side. 

Q.  E.  D." 

"  'T  is  well  and  pleasantly  argued,"  quoth  Robin  ;  "  yet  I  am  still  in  the  dark 
as  to  whether  this  same  Curtal  Friar  is  upon  the  side  of  the  river  on  which  we 
stand  or  upon  the  side  of  the  river  on  which  we  do  not  stand." 

"That,"  quoth  the  Friar,  "is  a  practical  question  upon  which  the  cunning 
rules  appertaining  to  logic  touch  not.  I  do  advise  thee  to  find  that  out  by  the 
aid  of  thine  own  five  senses  ;  sight,  feeling,  and  what  not." 

"  I  do  wish  much,"  quoth  Robin,  looking  thoughtfully  at  the  stout  priest,  "  to 
cross  yon  ford  and  strive  to  find  this  same  good  Friar." 

"Truly,"  said  the  other,  piously,  "it  is  a  goodly  wish  on  the  part  of  one  so 
young.  Far  be  it  from  me  to  check  thee  in  so  holy  a  quest.  Friend,  the  river 
is  free  to  all." 

"  Yea,  good  father,"  said  Robin  ;  "  but  thou  seest  that  my  clothes  are  of  the 
Robin  asketh  the  finest  and  I  fain  would  not  get  them  wet.  Methinks  thy  shoul- 
stout  Friar  to  ^  are  stout  ancj  broad  \  couldst  thou  not  find  it  in  thy  heart  to 

carry  him  across 

the  ford.  carry  me  across  ? ' 

"  Now,  by  the  white  hand  of  the  holy  Lady  of  the  Fountain  !  "  burst  forth  the 
Friar  in  a  mighty  rage  ;  "  dost  thou,  thou  poor  puny  stripling,  thou  kiss-my- 
lady-la  poppenjay  ;  thou  —  thou—  What  shall  I  call  thee  ?  Dost  thou  ask  me, 
the  holy  Tuck,  to  carry  thee  ?  Now  I  swear  "  Here  he  paused  suddenly, 
then  slowly  the  anger  passed  from  his  face,  and  his  little  eyes  twinkled  once 
more.  "  But  why  should  I  not  ? "  quoth  he,  piously  :  "  Did  not  the  holy  Saint 


ROBIN  SEEKETH  THE  CURTAL  FRIAR  OF  THE  FOUNTAIN.      135 

Christopher  ever  carry  the  stranger  across  the  river  ?  and  should  I,  poor  sinner 
that  I  am,  be  ashamed  to  do  likewise  ?  Come  with  me,  stranger,  and  I  will 
do  thy  bidding  in  an  humble  frame  of  mind."  So  saying  he  clambered  up  the 
bank,  closely  followed  by  Robin,  and  led  the  way  to  the  shallow  pebbly  ford, 
chuckling  to  himself  the  while  as  though  he  were  enjoying  some  goodly  jest 
within  himself. 

Having  come  to  the  ford,  he  girded  up  his  robes  about  his  loins,  tucked  his 
good  broadsword  beneath  his  arm,  and  stooped  his  back  to  take  Robin  upon  it. 
Suddenly  he  straightened  up.  "  Methinks,"  quoth  he,  "  thou  'It  get  thy  weapon 
wet.  Let  me  tuck  it  beneath  mine  arm  along  with  mine  own." 

"  Nay,  good  father,"  said  Robin,  "  I  would  not  burden  thee  with  aught  of 
mine  but  myself." 

"  Dost  thou  think,"  said  the  Friar,  mildly,  "  that  the  good  Saint  Christopher 
would  ha'  sought  his  own  ease  so  ?  Nay,  give  me  thy  tool  as  I  bid  thee,  for  I 
would  carry  it  as  a  penance  to  my  pride." 

Upon  this,  without  more  ado,  Robin  Hood  unbuckled  his  sword  from  his  side 
and  handed  it  to  the  other,  who  thrust  it  with  his  own  beneath 

The  Friar  car- 

his  arm.     Then  once  more  the  Friar  bent  his  back,  and,  Robin    ries  Robin  across 
having  mounted  upon  it,  he  stepped  sturdily  into  the  water,  and        water- 
so  strode  onward,  splashing  in  the  shoal,  and  breaking  all  the  smooth  surface 
into  ever-widening  rings.     At  last  he  reached  the  other  side  and  Robin  leaped 
lightly  from  his  back. 

"  Many  thanks,  good  father,"  quoth  he.  "  Thou  art  indeed  a  good  and  holy 
man.  Pry  thee  give  me  my  sword  and  let  me  away,  for  I  am  in  haste." 

At  this  the  stout  Friar  looked  upon  Robin  for  a  long  time,  his  head  on  one 
side,  and  with  a  most  waggish  twist  to  his  face ;  then  he  slowly  winked  his  right 
eye.     "  Nay,  good  youth,"  said  he,  gently,  "  I  doubt  not  that  thou  art  in  haste 
with  thine  affairs,  yet  thou  dost  think  nothing  of  mine.     Thine    Thf       Frfar 
are  of  a  carnal  nature ;  mine  are  of  a  spiritual  nature,  a  holy  work,    outwits  Robin 
so  to  speak  ;  moreover,  mine  affairs  do  lie  upon  the  other  side  of 
this  stream.     I  see  by  thy  quest  of  this  same  holy  recluse  that  thou  art  a  good 
young  man  and  most  reverent  to  the  cloth.     I  did  get  wet  coming  hither,  and 
am  sadly  afraid  that  should  I  wade  the  water  again  I  might  get  certain  cricks 
and  pains  i'  the  joints  that  would  mar  my  devotions  for  many  a  day  to  come. 
I  know  that  since  I  have  so  humbly  done  thy  bidding  thou  wilt  carry  me  back 
again.     Thou  seest  how  Saint  Godrick,  that  holy  hermit  whose  natal  day  this 
is,  hath  placed  in  my  hands  two  swords  and  in  thine  never  a  one.     Therefore 
be  persuaded,  good  youth,  and  carry  me  back  again." 

Robin  Hood  looked  up  and  he  looked  down,  biting  his  nether  lip.  Quoth  he, 
"  Thou  cunning  Friar,  thou  hast  me  fair  and  fast  enow.  Let  me  tell  thee  that 


136      ROBIN  SEEKETH  THE  CURTAL  FRIAR  OF  THE  FOUNTAIN. 

not  one  of  thy  cloth  hath  so  hoodwinked  me  in  all  my  life  before.  I  might  have 
known  from  thy  looks  that  thou  wert  no  such  holy  man  as  thou  didst  pretend 
to  be." 

"  Nay,"  interrupted  the  Friar,  "  I  bid  thee  speak  not  so  scurrilously  neither, 
lest  thou  mayst  perchance  feel  the  prick  of  an  inch  or  so  of  blue  steel." 

"  Tut,  tut,"  said  Robin,  "  speak  not  so,  Friar  ;  the  loser  hath  ever  the  right 
to  use  his  tongue  as  he  doth  list.  Give  me  my  sword  ;  I  do  promise  to  carry 
thee  back  straightway.  Nay,  I  will  not  lift  the  weapon  against  thee." 

"  Marry,  come  up,"  quoth  the  Friar,  "  I  fear  thee  not,  fellow.  Here  is  thy 
skewer  ;  and  get  thyself  presently  ready,  for  I  would  hasten  back." 

So  Robin  took  his  sword  again  and  buckled  it  at  his  side  ;  then  he  bent  his 
stout  back  and  took  the  Friar  upon  it. 

Now  I  wot  Robin  Hood  had  a  heavier  load  to  carry  in  the  Friar  than  the 
Friar  had  in  him.  Moreover  he  did  not  know  the  ford,  so  he 

Robin  Hood  car-  . 

ries  the  Friar  went  stumbling  among  the  stones,  now  stepping  into  a  deep  hole, 
back  again.  an(j  nQW  near}y  tripping  over  a  bowlder,  while  the  sweat  ran 
down  his  face  in  beads  from  the  hardness  of  his  journey  and  the  heaviness  of 
his  load.  Meantime,  the  Friar  kept  digging  his  heels  into  Robin's  sides  and 
bidding  him  hasten,  calling  him  many  ill  names  the  while.  To  all  this  Robin 
answered  never  a  word,  but,  having  softly  felt  around  till  he  found  the  buckle 
of  the  belt  that  held  the  Friar's  sword,  he  worked  slyly  at  the  fastenings,  seek 
ing  to  loosen  them.  Thus  it  came  about  that,  by  the  time  he  had  reached  the 
other  bank  with  his  load,  the  Friar's  sword-belt  was  loose  albeit  he  knew  it 
not ;  so  when  Robin  stood  on  dry  land  and  the  Friar  leaped  from  his  back,  the 
yeoman  gripped  hold  of  the  sword  so  that  blade,  sheath,  and  strap  came  away 
from  the  holy  man,  leaving  him  without  a  weapon. 

"  Now  then,"  quoth  merry  Robin,  panting  as  he  spake  and  wiping  the  sweat 
from  his  brow,  "  I  have  thee,  fellow.  This  time  that  same  Saint  of  whom  thou 
didst  speak  but  now  hath  delivered  two  swords  into  my  hand  and  hath  stripped 
thine  away  from  thee.  Now  if  thou  dost  not  carry  me  back,  and  that  speedily, 
I  swear  I  will  prick  thy  skin  till  it  is  as  full  of  holes  as  a  slashed  doublet." 

The  good  Friar  said  not  a  word  for  a  while,  but  he  looked  at  Robin  with  a 
grim  look.  "  Now,"  said  he  at  last,  "  I  did  think  that  thy  wits  were  of  the 
heavy  sort  and  knew  not  that  thou  wert  so  cunning.  Truly,  thou  hast  me  upon 
the  hip.  Give  me  my  sword,  and  I  promise  not  to  draw  it  against  thee  save  in 
self-defense  ;  also  I  promise  to  do  thy  bidding  and  take  thee  upon  my  back  and 
carry  thee." 

So  jolly  Robin  gave  him  his  sword  again,  which  the  Friar  buckled  to  his 
side,  and  this  time  looked  to  it  that  it  was  more  secure  in  its  fastenings  ;  then 
tucking  up  his  robes  once  more,  he  took  Robin  Hood  upon  his  back  and  with- 


ROBIN  SEEKETH  THE  CURTAL  FRIAR  OF  THE  FOUNTAIN.       139 

out  a  word  stepped  into  the  water,  and  so  waded  on  in  silence  while  Robin  sat 
laughing  upon  his  back.     At  last  he  reached  the  middle  of  the  ford  where  the 
water  was  deepest.     Here  he  stopped  for  a  moment,  and  then, 
with  a  sudden  lift  of  his  hand  and  heave  of  his  shoulders,  fairly    lies  Robin  Hood 
shot  Robin  over  his  head  as  though  he  were  a  sack  of  grain.  tnto  the  w^er- 

Down  went  Robin  into  the  water  with  a  mighty  splash.  "  There,"  quoth  the 
holy  man,  calmly  turning  back  again  to  the  shore,  "  let  that  cool  thy  hot  spirit, 
if  it  may." 

Meantime,  after  much  splashing,  Robin  had  gotten  to  his  feet  and  stood  gazing 
about  him  all  bewildered,  the  water  running  from  him  in  pretty  little  rills.  At 
last  he  shot  the  water  out  of  his  ears  and  spat  some  out  of  his  mouth,  and, 
gathering  his  scattered  wits  together,  saw  the  stout  Friar  standing  on  the  bank 
and  laughing.  Then,  I  wot,  was  Robin  Hood  a  mad  man.  "  Stay,  thou  vil 
lain  ! "  roared  he,  "I  am  after  thee  straight,  and  if  I  do  not  carve  thy  brawn 
for  thee  this  day,  may  I  never  lift  finger  again ! "  So  saying,  he  dashed,  splash 
ing,  to  the  bank. 

"Thou  needst  not  hasten  thyself  unduly,"  quoth  the  stout  Friar.  "Fear 
not ;  I  will  abide  here,  and  if  thou  dost  not  cry  '  Alack-a-day  '  ere  long  time  is 
gone,  may  I  never  more  peep  through  the  brake  at  a  fallow  deer." 

And  now  Robin,  having  reached  the  bank,  began,  without  more  ado,  to  roll 
up  his  sleeves  above  his  wrists.  The  Friar,  also,  tucked  his  robes  more  about 
him,  showing  a  great,  stout  arm  on  which  the  muscles  stood  out  like  humps  of 
an  aged  tree.  Then  Robin  saw,  what  he  had  not  wotted  of  before,  that  the 
Friar  had  also  a  coat  of  chain  mail  beneath  his  gown. 

"  Look  to  thyself,"  cried  Robin,  drawing  his  good  sword. 

"Ay,  marry,"  quoth  the  Friar,  who  held  his  already  in  his  hand.  So, 
without  more  ado,  they  came  together,  and  thereupon  began  a  Robin  Hood 
fierce  and  mighty  battle.  Right  and  left,  and  up  and  down,  and 
back  and  forth  they  fought.  The  swords  flashed  in  the  sun  and 
then  met  with  a  clash  that  sounded  far.  and  near.  I  wot  this  was  no  playful 
bout  at  quarterstaff,  but  a  grim  and  serious  fight  of  real  earnest.  Thus  they 
strove  for  an  hour  or  more,  pausing  every  now  and  then  to  rest,  at  which  times 
each  looked  at  the  other  with  wonder,  and  thought  that  never  had  he  seen  so 
stout  a  fellow  ;  then  once  again  they  would  go  at  it  more  fiercely  than  ever. 
Yet  in  all  this  time  neither  had  harmed  the  other  nor  caused  his  blood  to  flow. 
At  last  merry  Robin  cried,  "  Hold  thy  hand,  good  friend  ! "  whereupon  both 
lowered  their  swords. 

"  Now  I  crave  a  boon  ere  we  begin  again,"  quoth  Robin,  wiping  the  sweat 
from  his  brow  ;  for  they  had  striven  so  long  that  he  began  to  think  that  it 
would  be  an  ill-done  thing  either  to  be  smitten  himself  or  to  smite  so  stout  and 
brave  a  fellow. 


I40      ROBIN  SEEKETH  THE  CURTAL  FRIAR  OF  THE  FOUNTAIN. 

"What  wouldst  thou  have  of  me  ?  "  asked  the  Friar. 

"  Only  this,"  quoth  Robin  ;  "  that  thou  wilt  let  me  blow  thrice  upon  my 
bugle  horn." 

The  Friar  bent  his  brows  and  looked  shrewdly  at  Robin  Hood.  "  Now  I  do 
The  Friar  giv-  verity  think  that  thou  hast  some  cunning  trick  in  this,"  quoth 
etk  Robin  Hood  he.  "  Ne'crthelcss,  I  fear  thee  not,  and  will  let  thee  have  thy 
oThis°bugie  wish,  providing  thou  wilt  also  let  me  blow  thrice  upon  this  little 
horn-  whistle." 

"  With  all  my  heart,"  quoth  Robin  ;  "  so,  here  goes  for  one."  So  saying,  he 
raised  his  silver  horn  to  his  lips,  and  blew  thrice  upon  it,  clear  and  high. 

Meantime,  the  Friar  stood  watching  keenly  for  what  might  come  to  pass, 
holding  in  his  ringers  the  while  a  pretty  silver  whistle,  such  as  knights  use  for 
calling  their  hawks  back  to  their  wrists,  which  whistle  always  hung  at  his  gir 
dle  along  with  his  rosary. 

Scarcely  had  the  echo  of  the  last  note  of  Robin's  bugle  come  winding  back 
The  four  yeo-  from  across  the  river,  when  four  tall  men  in  Lincoln  green  came 
men  come  to  running  around  the  bend  of  the  road,  each  with  a  bow  in  his  hand 

their  master's 

aid.  and  an  arrow  ready  nocked  upon  the  string. 

"  Ha  !  is  it  thus,  thou  traitor  knave  !  "  cried  the  Friar.     "  Then,  marry,  look 
to  thyself ! "  so  saying,  he  straightway  clapped  the  hawk's  whistle 

The  Friar  blow-  ./    .  ./  ,       i     i        i  ,     -,i         A 

etk  upon  his         to  his  lips  and  blew  a  blast  that  was  both  loud  and  shrill.     And 
™hlstl<->and  so     now  there  came  a  crackling  of  the  bushes  that  lined  the  other  side 

calletn  jour  ° 

great  hounds  to   of  the  road,  and  presently  forth  from  the  covert  burst  four  great, 

aid  him.  , 

shaggy  hounds. 

"At  'em,  Sweet  Lips  !  at  'em,  Bell  Throat !  at  'em,  Beauty  !  at  'em,  Fangs  !" 
cried  the  Friar,  pointing  at  Robin. 

And  now  it  was  well  for  that  yeoman  that  a  tree  stood  nigh  him  beside  the 
road,  else  had  he  had  an  ill  chance  of  it.  Ere  one  could  say  "  Gaffer  Downthe- 
dale  "  the  hounds  were  upon  him,  and  he  had  only  time  to  drop  his  sword  and 
leap  lightly  into  the  tree,  around  which  the  hounds  gathered,  looking  up  at  him 
as  though  he  were  a  cat  on  the  eaves.  But  the  Friar  quickly  called  off  his 
dogs.  "  At  'em  !  "  cried  he,  pointing  down  the  road  to  where  the  yeomen  were 
standing  stock  still  with  wonder  of  what  they  saw.  As  the  hawk  darts  down 
upon  its  quarry,  so  sped  the  four  dogs  at  the  yeomen  ;  but  when  the  four  men 
saw  the  hounds  so  coming,  all  with  one  accord,  saving  only  Will  Scarlet,  drew 
each  man  his  goose  feather  to  his  ear  and  let  fly  his  shaft. 
The  yeomen  And  now  the  old  ballad  telleth  of  a  wondrous  thing  that  hap- 

founds,  'but  the     pened,  for  thus  it  says,  that  each  dog  so  shot  at  leaped  lightly 
dogs  catch  the      aside,  and  as  the  arrow  passed  him  whistling,  caught  it  in  his 

arrows  in  their  .  .  -T  111  ,  .•,-,    -, 

mouths.  mouth  and  bit  it  in  twain.     Now  it  would  have  been  an  ill  day 


ROBIN  SEEKETH  THE  CURTAL  FRIAR  OF  THE  FOUNTAIN.     141 

for  these  four  good  fellows  had  not  Will  Scarlet  stepped  before  the  others  and 
met  the  hounds  as  they  came  rushing.  "  Why,  how  now,  Fangs ! "  cried  he, 
sternly.  "Down,  Beauty!  down,  sirrah  !  What  means  this?" 

At  the  sound  of  his  voice  each  dog  shrank  back  quickly,  and  then  straight 
way  came  to  him  and  licked  his  hands  and  fawned  upon  him,  as 

t  T-I  r  «**  hounds 

is  the  wont  or  dogs  that  meet  one  they  know.  Then  the  four  know  wuiScar- 
yeomen  came  forward,  the  hounds  leaping  around  Will  Scarlet  let' 
joyously.  "  Why,  how  now  !  "  cried  the  stout  Friar,  "  what  means  this  ?  Art 
thou  wizard  to  turn  those  wolves  into  lambs  ?  Ha  !  "  cried  he,  when  they  had 
come  still  nearer,  "  can  I  trust  mine  eyes  ?  What  means  it  that  I  see  young 
Master  William  Gamwell  in  such  company  ?  " 

"Nay,  Tuck,"  said  the  young  man,  as  the  four  came  forward  to  where  Robin 
was  now  clambering  down  from  the  tree  in  which  he  had  been  roosting,  he 
having  seen  that  all  danger  was  over  for  the  time  ;  "  nay,  Tuck,  my  name  is  no 
longer  Will  Gamwell,  but  Will  Scarlet ;  and  this  is  my  good  uncle,  Robin 
Hood,  with  whom  I  am  abiding  just  now." 

"  Truly,  good  master,"  said  the  Friar,  looking  somewhat  abashed  and  reach 
ing  out  his  great  palm  to  Robin,  "  I  ha'  oft  heard  thy  name  both  sung  and 
spoken  of,  but  I  never  thought  to  meet  thee  in  battle.  I  crave  thy  forgiveness, 
and  do  wonder  not  that  I  found  so  stout  a  man  against  me." 

"  Truly,  most  holy  father,"  said  Little  John,  "  I  am  more  thankful  than  e'er 
I  was  in  all  my  life  before  that  our  good  friend  Scarlet  knew  thee  and  thy  dogs. 
I  tell  thee  seriously  that  I  felt  my  heart  crumble  away  from  me  when  I  saw  my 
shaft  so  miss  its  aim,  and  those  great  beasts  of  thine  coming  straight  at  me." 

"  Thou  mayst  indeed  be  thankful,  friend,"  said  the  Friar,  gravely.  "  But, 
Master  Will,  how  cometh  it  that  thou  dost  now  abide  in  Sherwood  ? " 

"  Why,  Tuck,  dost  thou  not  know  of  my  ill  happening  with  my  father's  stew 
ard  ? "  answered  Scarlet. 

"  Yea,  truly,  yet  I  knew  not  that  thou  wert  in  hiding  because  of  it.  Marry, 
the  times  are  all  awry  when  a  gentleman  must  lie  hidden  for  so  small  a  thing." 

"  But  we  are  losing  time,"  quoth  Robin,  "  and  I  have  yet  to  find  that  same 
curtal  Friar." 

"  Why,  uncle,  thou  hast  not  far  to  go,"  said  Will  Scarlet,  pointing  to  the 
Friar,  "  for  there  he  stands  beside  thee." 

"  How  ? "  quoth  Robin,  "  art  thou  the  man  that  I  have  been  at  such  pains  to 
seek  all  day,  and  have  got  such  a  ducking  for  ? " 

''  Robin  Hood 

"  Why,  truly,"  said  the  Friar,  demurely,  "  some  do  call  me  the  findeth  the  man 
curtal  Friar  of  Fountain  Dale  ;  others  again  call  me  in  jest  the   he  sousht- 
Abbot  of  Fountain  Abbey ;  others  still  again  call  me  simple  Friar  Tuck." 

"  I  like  the  last  name  best,"  quoth  Robin,  "for  it  doth  slip  more  glibly  off  the 


142      ROBIN  SEEKETH  THE  CURTAL  FRIAR  OF  THE  FOUNTAIN. 

tongue.     But  why  didst  thou  not  tell  me  thou  wert  he  I  sought,  instead  of 
sending  me  searching  for  black  moonbeams  ? " 

"Why,  truly,  thou  didst  not  ask  me,  good  master,"  quoth  stout  Tuck  ;  "but 
what  didst  thou  desire  of  me  ?  " 

"  Nay,"  quoth  Robin,  "  the  day  groweth  late,  and  we  cannot  stand  longer 
talking  here.  Come  back  with  us  to  Sherwood,  and  I  will  unfold  all  to  thee  as 
we  travel  along." 

So,  without  tarrying  longer,  they  all  departed,  with  the  stout  dogs  at  their 
The  Friar  goeth    heels,  and  wended  their  way  back  to  Sherwood  again ;  but  it  was 
byeokmenkto  'sLr-   long  past  nightfall  ere  they  reached  the  greenwood  tree. 
wood  Forest.  jyf0w  listen,  for  next  I  will  tell  how  Robin  Hood  compassed  the 

happiness  of  two  young  lovers,  aided  by  the  merry  Friar  Tuck  of  Fountain 
Dale. 


III. 

Robin  Hood  compasseth  the  Marriage  of  Two 

True  Lovers. 

AND  now  had  come  the  morning  when  fair  Ellen  was  to  be  married,  and 
on  which  merry  Robin  had  sworn  that  Allan  a  Dale  should,  as  it  were, 
eat  out  of  the  platter  that  had  been  filled  for  Sir  Stephen  of  Trent.     Up 
rose  Robin  Hood,  blithe  and  gay,  up  rose  his  merry  men  one  and  all,  and  up 
rose  last  of  all  stout  Friar  Tuck,  winking  the  smart  of  sleep  from  out  his  eyes. 
Then,  whilst  the  air  seemed  to  brim  over  with  the  song  of  many  birds,  all 
blended  together  and  all  joying  in  the  misty  morn,  each  man  laVed  face  and 
hands  in  the  leaping  brook,  and  so  the  day  began. 

"  Now,"  quoth  Robin,  when  they  had  broken  their  fast,  and  each  man  had 
eaten  his  fill,  "  it  is  time  for  us  to  set  forth  upon  the  undertaking  that  we  have 
in  hand  for  to-day.  I  will  choose  me  one  score  of  my  good  men  to  go  with  me, 
for  I  may  need  aid  ;  and  thou,  Will  Scarlet,  wilt  abide  here  and  be  the  chief 
whiles  I  am  gone."  Then  searching  through  all  the  band,  each  man  of  whom 
crowded  forward  eager  to  be  chosen,  Robin  called  such  as  he  wished  by  name, 
until  he  had  a  score  of  stout  fellows,  the  very  flower  of  his  yeomanrie.  Beside 
Little  John  and  Will  Stutely  were  nigh  all  those  famous  lads  of  whom  I  have 
already  told  you.  Then,  while  those  so  chosen  ran  leaping,  full  of  joy,  to  arm 
themselves  with  bow  and  shaft  and  broadsword,  Robin  Hood  Robin  Hood put- 
stepped  aside  into  the  covert,  and  there  donned  a  gay  coat  such  ^ 
as  might  have  been  worn  by  some  strolling  minstrel,  and  slung  a  minstrel. 
harp  across  his  shoulder,  the  better  to  carry  out  that  part. 

And  now  I  warrant  Robin  Hood  was  a  sight  to  make  all  men  stare.  His 
hose  were  of  green,  but  his  jerkin  was  of  mixed  red  and  yellow,  all  hung  about 
with  streamers  and  knots  and  tags  and  ribbons  of  red  and  yellow  also.  Upon 
his  head  he  wore  a  tall  hat  of  red  leather,  and  thrust  therein  was  a  nodding 
peacock's  plume. 

Ail  the  band  stared  and  many  laughed,  for  never  had  they  seen  their  master 
in  such  a  fantastic  guise  before.  Little  John  walked  all  around  him,  seriously 
observing  him  narrowly,  wvth  his  neck  craned  and  his  head  on  one  side.  As 
you  may  have  seen  the  uarnyard  cock  walk  slowly  round  some  unwonted  thing, 


144      ROBIN  COMPASSETH  THE  MARRIAGE  OF  TWO  LOVERS. 

such  as  a  sleeping  cat  or  what  not,  pausing  anon  and  anon,  moving  again  with 
doubtful  step,  wondering  the  while  and  clucking  to  himself ;  so  walked  Little 
John  around  Robin  with  such  words  as,  "  La  !  Look  ye  there  now  !  is  it 
sooth  ?  't  is  pretty,  I  wot !  "  At  last  he  stopped  in  front  of  Robin.  "  By  my 
soul,"  said  he,  "  this  same  is  a  dainty  and  pretty  dress  that  thou  hast  upon 
thee,  good  master.  Never  hath  sweeter  bodily  clothing  been  seen  sin'  good 
Saint  Wolfhad,  the  martyr,  saw  one  sitting  upon  a  rock  painting  his  tail  purple 
and  green." 

"  Truly,"  quoth  Robin,  holding  up  his  arms  and  looking  down  at  himself, 
"  I  do  think  it  be  somewhat  of  a  gay,  gaudy,  grasshopper  dress  ;  but  it  is  a 
pretty  thing  for  all  that,  and  doth  not  ill  befit  the  turn  of  my  looks,  albeit  I 
Robin  Hood  bids  wear  it  but  f  or  the  nonce.  But  stay,  Little  John,  here  are  two 
^harg?of'twoke  ba£s  that  l  would  have  thee  carry  in  thy  pouch  for  the  sake  of 
bags  of  motiey.  safe-keeping.  I  can  ill  care  for  them  myself  beneath  this  mot 
ley." 

"  Why,  master,"  quoth  Little  John,  taking  the  bags  and  weighing  them  in  his 
hand,  "  here  is  the  chink  of  gold." 

"Well,  what  an  there  be,"  said  Robin  ;  "it  is  mine  own  coin,  and  the  band 
is  none  the  worse  for  what  is  there.  Come,  busk  ye,  lads  ; "  and  he  turned 
quickly  away,  "get  ye  ready  straightway."  Then  gathering  the  score  together 
in  a  close  rank,  in  the  midst  of  which  were  Allan  a  Dale  and  Friar  Tuck,  he 
led  them  forth  upon  their  way  from  the  forest  shades. 

So  they  walked  on  for  a  long  time  till  they  had  come  out  of  Sherwood  and 
Robin  Hood  and  to  tne  va^e  °^  R°tner  stream.  Here  were  different  sights  from 
a  score  of  his  what  one  saw  in  the  forest ;  hedge-rows,  broad  fields  of  barley 

merry  men,  to-  ,        ,  ...  ...      , 

gether  with          co m,  pasture  lands  rolling  upward  till  they  met  the  sky  and  all 

£//«* aMDaiae"d  dotted  over  with  flocks  of  white  sheeP'  hayfields  whence  came  the 
set  forth  for  the  odor  of  new-mown  hay  that  lay  in  smooth  swathes  over  which 
skimmed  the  swifts  in  rapid  flight ;  such  they  saw,  and  different 
was  it,  I  wot,  from  the  tangled  depths  of  the  sweet  woodlands,  but  full  as  fair. 
Thus  Robin  led  his  band,  walking  blithely  with  chest  thrown  out  and  head 
thrown  back,  snuffing  the  odors  of  the  gentle  breeze  that  came  drifting  from 
over  the  hayfields. 

"  Truly,"  quoth  he,  "  the  dear  world  is  as  fair  here  as  in  the  woodland  shades. 
Who  calls  it  a  vale  of  tears  ?  Methinks  it  is  but  the  darkness  in  our  minds  that 
bringeth  gloom  to  the  world.  For  what  sayeth  that  merry  song  thou  singest, 
Little  John  ?  is  it  not  thus  ?  — 

"  for  when  my  love's  eyes  do  shine,  do  shine 
And  when  her  lips  smile  so  rare. 


ROBIN  COMPASSETH  THE  MARRIAGE  OF  TWO  LOVERS.         145 

The  day  it  is  jocund  and  fine,  so  fine, 

Though  let  it  be  wet  or  be  fair, 
And  when  the  stout  ale  is  all  flowing  so  fast, 
Our  sorrows  and  troubles  are  things  of  the  past." 

"  Nay,"  said  Friar  Tuck  piously,  "  ye  do  think  of  profane  things  and  of 
naught  else  ;  yet,  truly,  there  be  better  safe-guards  against  care  and  woe  than 
ale  drinking  and  bright  eyes,  to  wit,  fasting  and  meditation.  Look  upon  me, 
have  I  the  likeness  of  a  sorrowful  man  ? " 

At  this  a  great  shout  of  laughter  went  up  from  all  around,  for  the  night 
before  the  stout  Friar  had  emptied  twice  as  many  canakins  of  ale  as  any  one  of 
all  the  merry  men. 

"  Truly,"  quoth  Robin,  when  he  could  speak  for  laughter,  "  I  should  say  that 
thy  sorrows  were  about  equal  to  thy  goodliness." 

So  they  stepped  along,  talking,  singing,  jesting,  and  laughing,  until  they 
had  come  to  a  certain  little  church  that  belonged  to  the  great  They  come  to  the 
estates  owned  by  the  rich  Priory  of  Emmet.  Here  it  was  that  eAeu.rcA™*ef? 

J  J  fair  Ellen  is  to 

fair  Ellen  was  to  be  married  on  that  morn,  and  here  was  the  spot  be  married. 
toward  which  the  yeomen  had  pointed  their  toes.  On  the  other  side  of  the 
road  from  where  the  church  stood  with  waving  fields  of  barley  around,  ran  a 
stone  wall  along  the  roadside.  Over  the  wall  from  the  highway  was  a  fringe 
of  young  trees  and  bushes,  and  here  and  there  the  wall  itself  was  covered  by  a 
mass  of  blossoming  woodbine  that  filled  all  the  warm  air  far  and  near  with  its 
sweet  summer  odor.  Then  straightway  the  yeomen  leaped  over  the  wall, 
alighting  on  the  tall  soft  grass  upon  the  other  side,  frightening  a  flock  of  sheep 
that  lay  there  in  the  shade  so  that  they  scampered  away  in  all  directions. 
Here  was  a  sweet  cool  shadow  both  from  the  wall  and  from  the  fair  young 
trees  and  bushes,  and  here  sat  the  yeomen  down,  and  glad  enough  they  were 
to  rest  after  their  long  tramp  of  the  morning. 

"  Now,"  quoth  Robin,  "  I  would  have  one  of  you  watch  and  tell  me  when  he 
sees  any  one  coming  to  the  church,  and  the  one  I  choose  shall  be   Kobin  bids 
young  David  of  Don  caster.     So  get  thee  upon  the  wall,  David,   young  David  of 
and  hide  beneath  the  woodbine  so  as  to  keep  watch."  watch  for  whoso 

Accordingly  young  David  did  as  he  was  bidden,  the  others  may  come- 
stretching  themselves  at  length  upon  the  grass,  some  talking  together  and 
others  sleeping.  Then  all  was  quiet  save  only  for  the  low  voices  of  those  that 
talked  together,  and  for  Allan's  restless  footsteps  pacing  up  and  down,  for  his 
soul  was  so  full  of  disturbance  that  he  could  not  stand  still,  and  saving,  also,  for 
the  mellow  snoring  of  Friar  Tuck,  who  enjoyed  his  sleep  with  a  noise  as  of  one 
sawing  soft  wood  very  slowly.  Robin  lay  upon  his  back  and  gazed  aloft  into 
the  leaves  of  the  trees,  his  thought  leagues  away,  and  so  a  long  time  passed. 


146      ROBIN  COMPASSETH  THE  MARRIAGE  OF  TWO  LOVERS. 

Then  up  spoke  Robin  :  "  Now  tell  us,  young  David  of  Doncaster,  what  dost 
thou  see  ? " 

Then  David  answered,  "  I  see  the  white  clouds  floating  and  I  feel  the  wind 
a-blowing  and  three  black  crows  are  flying  over  the  wold  ;  but  naught  else  do 
I  see,  good  master." 

So  silence  fell  again  and  another  time  passed,  broken  only  as  I  have  said,  till 
Robin,  growing  impatient,  spake  again.  "  Now  tell  me,  young  David,  what 
dost  thou  see  by  this  ? " 

And  David  answered,  "  I  see  the  windmills  swinging  and  three  tall  poplar 
trees  swaying  against  the  sky,  and  a  flock  of  field-fares  are  flying  over  the  hill ; 
but  naught  else  do  I  see,  good  master." 

So  another  time  passed,  till  at  last  Robin  asked  young  David  once  more  what 

he  saw ;  and  David  said,  "  I  hear  the  cuckoo  singing,  and  I  see  how  the  wind 

The  old  Porter   makes  waves  in  the  barley  field ;  and  now  over  the  hill  to  the 

cometh  to  open     church  cometh  an  old  friar,  and  in  his  hands  he  carries  a  great 

bunch  of  keys  ;  and  lo  !  now  he  cometh  to  the  church  door." 

Then  up  rose  Robin  Hood  and  shook  Friar  Tuck  by  the  shoulder.  "  Come, 
rouse  thee,  holy  man  ! "  cried  he  ;  whereupon,  with  much  grunting,  the  stout 
Tuck  got  to  his  feet.  "Marry,  bestir  thyself,"  quoth  Robin,  "for  yonder,  in 
the  church  door,  is  one  of  thy  cloth.  Go  thou  and  talk  to  him,  and  so  get  thy 
self  into  the  church,  that  thou  mayst  be  there  when  thou  art  wanted  ;  meantime, 
Little  John,  Will  Stutely,  and  I  will  follow  thee  anon." 

So  Friar  Tuck  clambered  over  the  wall,  crossed  the  road,  and  came  to  the 
church,  where  the  old  Friar  was  still  laboring  with  the  great  key,  the  lock  be 
ing  somewhat  rusty  and  he  somewhat  old  and  feeble. 

"  Hilloa,  brother,"  quoth  Tuck,  "  let  me  aid  thee."  So  saying,  he  took  the 
key  from  the  other's  hand,  and  quickly  opened  the  door  with  a  turn  of  it. 

"  Who  art  thou,  good  brother  ? "  asked  the  old  Friar,  in  a  high,  wheezing 
voice.  "  Whence  comest  thou,  and  whither  art  thou  going?  "  And  he  winked 
and  blinked  at  stout  Friar  Tuck  like  an  owl  at  the  sun. 

"  Thus  do  I  answer  thy  questions,  brother,"  said  the  other.  "  My  name  is 
Friar  Tuck  talk-  Tuck,  and  I  go  no  farther  than  this  spot,  if  thou  wilt  haply  but 
etk  with  the  let  me  stay  while  this  same  wedding  is  going  forward.  I  come 
from  Fountain  Dale,  and,  in  truth,  am  a  certain  poor  hermit,  as 
one  may  say,  for  I  live  in  a  cell  beside  the  fountain  blessed  by  that  holy  Saint 
Ethelrada,  which  same  suffered  the  sharpest  martyrdom  that  ever  befell  a 
woman,  to  wit,  she  had  her  tongue  cut  out,  so  that  she  could  speak  no  more 
words  than  a  dead  jackdaw,  as  it  were.  But  what  befell  ?  Marry,  listen. 
Straight  came  this  blessed  woman  to  that  same  fountain,  —  so  it  was,  and  yet  I 
am  fain  to  confess  that  ne'er  ha  I  got  much  good  from  the  waters  thereof ;  for 


ROBIN  COMPASSETH  THE  MARRIAGE  Of  TWO  LOVERS.      147 

cold  water  doth  ever  stir  my  inward  parts  with  certain  gripings  and  what 
not." 

"  But,"  piped  the  old  brother,  in  his  high,  wheezing  voice,  "  I  do  much  wish 
to  know  what  befell  this  holy  woman  upon  coming  to  that  same  blessed  foun 
tain." 

"  Marry,  a'  drank  o'  the  waters,  and  straightway  regained  that  which  an  evil- 
minded  fellow  might  say,  and  many  might  think,  was  no  such  heavenly  gift, 
and  that  was  her  powers  of  speech.  But,  if  I  understand  aught,  there  is  to  be 
a  gay  wedding  here  to-day  ;  so,  if  thou  mindest  not,  I  would  fain  rest  me  in  the 
cool  shade  within,  for  I  would  like  to  see  this  fine  sight." 

"  Truly,  thou  art  welcome,  brother,"  said  the  old  man,  leading  the  way 
within.  Meantime,  Robin  Hood,  in  his  guise  of  harper,  together  Little  yoftn  and 
with  Little  John  and  Will  Stutely,  had  come  to  the  church.  Wilt  stutely  go 

_...  ,.         ,  .          ,1-1,,  T  •     i       T    i  •***  the  church. 

Robin  sat  him  down  on  a  bench  beside  the  door,  but  Little  J  ohn,  whilst  Robin  sits 
carrying  the  two  bags  of  gold,  went  within,  as  did  Will  Stutely.  by  the  door' 

So  Robin  sat  by  the  door,  looking  up  the  road  and  down  the  road  to  see  who 
might  come,  till,  after  a  time,  he  saw  six  horsemen  come  riding  sedately  and 
slowly,  as  became  them,  for  they  were  churchmen  in  high  orders.  Then,  when 
they  had  come  nearer,  Robin  saw  who  they  were,  and  knew  them.  The  first 
was  the  Bishop  of  Hereford,  and  a  fine  figure  he  cut,  I  wot.  His  The  Bishop  of 
vestments  were  of  the  richest  silk,  and  around  his  neck  was  a  fair  Hereford  and 
chain  of  beaten  gold.  The  cap  that  hid  his  tonsure  was  of  black  Emmet  come  to 
velvet,  and  around  the  edges  of  it  were  rows  of  jewels  that  flashed  thechurch- 
in  the  sunlight,  each  stone  being  set  in  gold.  His  hose  were  of  flame-colored 
silk,  and  his  shoes  of  black  velvet,  the  long,  pointed  toes  being  turned  up  and 
fastened  to  his  knees,  and  on  either  instep  was  embroidered  a  cross  in  gold 
thread.  Beside  the  Bishop  rode  the  Prior  of  Emmet  upon  a  mincing  palfrey. 
Rich  were  his  clothes  also,  but  not  so  gay  as  the  stout  Bishop's.  Behind  these 
were  two  of  the  higher  brethren  of  Emmet,  and  behind  these  again  two  retain 
ers  belonging  to  the  Bishop ;  for  the  Lord  Bishop  of  Hereford  strove  to  be  as 
like  the  great  barons  as  was  in  the  power  of  one  in  holy  orders. 

When  Robin  saw  this  train  drawing  near,  with  flash  of  jewels  and  silk  and 
jingle  of  silver  bells  on  the  trappings  of  the  nags,  he  looked  sourly  upon  them. 
Quoth  he  to  himself,  "  Yon  Bishop  is  overgaudy  for  a  holy  man.  I  do  wonder 
whether  his  patron,  who,  methinks,  was  Saint  Thomas,  was  given  to  wearing 
golden  chains  about  his  neck,  silk  clothing  upon  his  body,  and  pointed  shoes 
upon  his  feet ;  the  money  for  all  of  which,  God  wot,  hath  been  wrung  from 
the  sweat  of  poor  tenants.  Bishop,  Bishop,  thy  pride  may  have  a  fall  ere  thou 
wottest  of  it." 

So  the  holy  men  came  to  the  church  ;  the  Bishop  and  the  Prior  jesting  and 


148      ROBIN  COMPASSETH  THE  MARRIAGE  OF  TWO  LOVERS. 

laughing  between  themselves  about  certain  fair  dames,  their  words  more  befit 
ting  the  lips  of  laymen,  methinks,  than  holy  clerks.  Then  they  dismounted, 
The  Bishop  of  and  the  Bishop,  looking  around,  presently  caught  sight  of  Robin 
%htrRobteak'  standing  in  the  doorway.  "  Hilloa,  good  fellow,"  quoth  he,  in  a 
Hood.  jovial  voice,  "  who  art  thou  that  struttest  in  such  gay  feathers  ?  " 

"  A  harper  am  I  from  the  North  country,"  quoth  Robin  ;  "  and  I  can  touch 
the  strings,  I  wot,  as  never  another  man  in  all  merry  England  can  do.  Truly, 
good  Lord  Bishop,  many  a  knight  and  burgher,  clerk  and  layman,  have  danced 
to  my  music,  willy  nilly,  and  most  times  greatly  against  their  will ;  such  is  the 
magic  of  my  harping.  Now  this  day,  my  Lord  Bishop,  if  I  may  play  at  this 
wedding,  I  do  promise  that  I  will  cause  the  fair  bride  to  love  the  man  she  mar 
ries  with  a  love  that  shall  last  as  long  as  that  twain  shall  live  together." 

"  Ha  !  is  it  so  ?  "  cried  the  Bishop.  "  Meanest  thou  this  in  sooth  ? "  and  he 
looked  keenly  at  Robin,  who  gazed  boldly  back  again  into  his  eyes.  "  Now,  if 
thou  wilt  cause  this  maiden  (who  hath  verily  bewitched  my  poor  cousin  Ste 
phen)  thus  to  love  the  man  she  is  to  marry,  as  thou  sayst  thou  canst,  I  will  give 
thee  whatsoever  thou  wilt  ask  me  in  due  measure.  Let  me  have  a  taste  of  thy 
skill,  fellow." 

"  Nay,"  quoth  Robin,  "  my  music  cometh  not  without  I  choose,  even  at  a 
Robin  -will  not  ^or<^  bishop's  bidding.  In  sooth  I  will  not  play  until  the  bride 
play  for  the  and  bridegroom  come." 

"  Now,  thou  art  a  saucy  varlet  to  speak  so  to  my  crest,"  quoth 
the  Bishop,  frowning  on  Robin.  "  Yet,  I  must  needs  bear  with  thee.  Look, 
Prior,  hither  cometh  our  cousin,  Sir  Stephen,  and  his  lady-love." 

And  now,  around  the  bend  of  the  high-road,  came  others,  riding  upon  horses. 
The  first  of  all  was  a  tall,  thin  man,  of  knightly  bearing,  dressed  all  in  black  silk, 
with  a  black  velvet  cap  upon  his  head,  turned  up  with  scarlet.  Robin  looked, 
and  had  no  doubt  that  this  was  Sir  Stephen,  both  because  of  his  knightly  car 
riage  and  of  his  gray  hairs.  Beside  him  rode  a  stout  Saxon  franklin,  Ellen's 
Sir  Stephen  and  father,  Edward  of  Deirwold  ;  behind  those  two  came  a  litter 
for  father  come  borne  by  two  horses,  and  therein  was  a  maiden  whom  Robin 
to  the  church.  knew  must  be  Ellen.  Behind  this  litter  rode  six  men-at-arms,  the 
sunlight  flashing  on  their  st^eel  caps  as  they  came  jingling  up  the  dusty  road. 

So  these  also  came  to  the  church,  and  there  Sir  Stephen  leaped  from  his 
horse,  and,  coming  to  the  litter,  handed  fair  Ellen  out  therefrom.  Then  Robin 
Hood  looked  at  her,  and  could  wonder  no  longer  how  it  came  about  that  so 
proud  a  knight  as  Sir  Stephen  of  Trent  wished  to  marry  a  common  franklin's 
daughter  ;  nor  did  he  wonder  that  no  ado  was  made  about  the  matter,  for  she 
was  the  fairest  maiden  that  ever  he  had  beheld.  Now,  however,  she  was  all 
pale  and  drooping,  like  a  fair  white  lily  snapped  at  the  stem  ;  and  so,  with  bent 


5ir-$tephen-and-his-  Bri 


ROBIN  COMPASSETH  THE  MARRIAGE  OF  TWO  LOVERS.      151 

head  and  sorrowful  look,  she  went  within  the  church,  Sir  Stephen  leading  her 
by  the  hand. 

"  Why  dost  thou  not  play,  fellow  ? "  quoth  the  Bishop,  looking  sternly  at 
Robin. 

"  Marry,"  said  Robin,  calmly,  "  I  will  play  in  greater  wise  than  your  lordship 
thinks  ;  but  not  till  the  right  time  hath  come." 

Said  the  Bishop  to  himself,  while  he  looked  grimly  at  Robin,  "  When  this 
wedding  is  gone  by  I  will  have  this  fellow  well  whipped  for  his  saucy  tongue 
and  bold  speech." 

And  now  fair  Ellen  and  Sir  Stephen  stood  before  the  altar,  and  the  Bishop 
himself  came  in  his  robes  and  opened  his  book,  whereat  fair  Ellen  looked  up 
and  about  her  in  bitter  despair,  like  the  fawn  that  finds  the  hounds  on  her 
haunch.  Then,  in  all  his  fluttering  tags  and  ribbons  of  red  and  yellow,  Robin 
Hood  strode  forward.  Three  steps  he  took  from  the  pillar,  whereby  he  leaned, 
and  stood  between  the  bride  and  bridegroom. 

"  Let  me  look  upon  this  lass,"  he  said  in  a  loud  voice.     "  Why,  how  now  ! 
what  have  we  here  ?     Here  be  lilies  in  the  cheeks,  and  not  roses    Robin  Hood  stops 
such  as  befit  a  bonny  bride.     This  is  no  fit  wedding.     Thou,  Sir   the  marrtag£- 
Knight,  so  old,  and  she  so  young,  and  thou  thinkest  to  make  her  thy  wife  ?     I 
tell  thee  it  may  not  be,  for  thou  art  not  her  own  true  love." 

At  this  all  stood  amazed,  and  knew  not  where  to  look  nor  what  to  think  or 
say,  for  they  were  all  bewildered  with  the  happening  ;  so,  whilst  every  one 
looked  at  Robin  as  though  they  had  been  changed  to  stone,  he  clapped  his 
bugle-horn  to  his  lips  and  blew  three  blasts  so  loud  and  clear,  they  echoed  from 
floor  to  rafter  as  though  they  were  sounded  by  the  trump  of  doom.     Then 
straightway  Little  John  and  Will  Stutely  came  leaping  and  stood    Little  John  and 
upon  either  side  of  Robin  Hood,  and  quickly  drew  their  broad-   ^^ff^ej^n 
swords,  the  while  a  mighty  voice  rolled  over  the  heads  of  all :    Hood's  aid. 
"  Here  be  I,  good  master,  when  thou  wantest  me  ; "  for  it  was  Friar  Tuck  that 
so  called  from  the  organ  loft. 

And  now  all  was  hubbub  and  noise.  Stout  Edward  strode  forward  raging, 
and  would  have  seized  his  daughter  to  drag  her  away,  but  Little  John  stepped 
between  and  thrust  him  back.  "  Stand  back,  old  man,"  said  he ;  "  thou  art  a 
hobbled  horse  this  day." 

"  Down  with  the  villains  !  "  cried  Sir  Stephen,  and  felt  for  his  sword,  but  it 
hung  not  beside  him  on  his  wedding  day. 

Then  the  men-at-arms  drew  their  swords,  and  it  seemed  like  that  blood  would 
wet  the  stones  ;  but  suddenly  came  a  bustle  at  the  door  and  loud 
voices,  steel  flashed  in  the  light,  and  the  crash  of  blows  sounded,    come  at  Robin's 
The  men-at-arms  fell  back,  and  up  the  aisle  came  leaping  eight- 


152      ROBIN  COMPASSETH  THE  MARRIAGE  OF  TWO  LOVERS. 

een  stout  yeomen  all  clad  in  Lincoln  green,  with  Allan  a  Dale  at  their  head. 
In  his  hand  he  bore  Robin  Hood's  good  stout  trusty  bow  of  yew,  and  this  he 
gave  to  him,  kneeling  the  while  upon  one  knee. 

Then  up  spake  Edward  of  Deirwold  in  a  deep  voice  of  anger  :  "  Is  it  thou, 
Allan  a  Dale,  that  hath  bred  all  this  coil  in  a  church  ?  " 

"  Nay,"  quoth  merry  Robin,  "  that  have  I  done,  and  I  care  not  who  knoweth 
it,  for  my  name  is  Robin  Hood." 

At  this  name  a  sudden  silence  fell.  The  Prior  of  Emmet  and  those  that  be 
longed  to  him  gathered  together  like  a  flock  of  frightened  sheep  when  the  scent 
of  the  wolf  is  nigh,  while  the  Bishop  of  Hereford,  laying  aside  his  book,  crossed 
himself  devoutly.  "  Now  Heaven  keep  us  this  day,"  said  he,  "  from  that  evil 
man  ! " 

"  Nay,"  quoth  Robin,  "  I  mean  you  no  harm  ;  but  here  is  fair  Ellen's  be 
trothed  husband,  and  she  shall  marry  him  or  pain  will  be  bred  to  some  of 
you." 

Then  up  spake  stout  Edward  in  a  loud  and  angry  voice  :  "  Now  I  say  nay  ! 
I  am  her  father,  and  she  shall  marry  Sir  Stephen  and  none  other." 

Now  all  this  time,  whilst  everything  was  in  turmoil  about  him,  Sir  Stephen 
had  been  standing  in  proud  and  scornful  silence.  "  Nay,  fellow,"  said  he, 
Sir  Stephen  -will  co^y,  "  thou  mayst  take  thy  daughter  back  again ;  I  would  not 
have  naught  to  marry  her  after  this  day's  doings  could  I  gain  all  merry  England 
EUettiOndw  thereby.  I  tell  thee  plainly,  I  loved  thy  daughter,  old  as  I  am, 
lefves^he  and  would  have  taken  her  up  like  a  jewel  from  the  sty,  yet,  truly, 

I  knew  not  that  she  did  love  this  fellow,  and  was  beloved  by  him. 
Maiden,  if  thou  dost  rather  choose  a  beggarly  minstrel  than  a  high-born  knight, 
take  thy  choice.  I  do  feel  it  shame  that  I  should  thus  stand  talking  amid  this 
herd,  and  so  I  will  leave  you."  Thus  saying  he  turned,  and,  gathering  his  men 
about  him,  walked  proudly  down  the  aisle.  Then  all  the  yeomen  were  silenced 
by  the  scorn  of  his  words,  only  Friar  Tuck  leaned  over  the  edge  of  the  choir 
loft,  and  called  out  to  him  ere  he  had  gone,  "  Good  den,  Sir  Knight  Thou 
wottest  old  bones  must  alway  make  room  for  young  blood."  But  Sir  Stephen 
neither  answered  nor  looked  up,  but  passed  out  from  the  church  as  though  he 
had  heard  naught,  his  men  following  him. 

Then  the  Bishop  of  Hereford  spoke  hastily :  "  I,  too,  have  no  business  here, 
and  so  will  depart ;  "  and  he  made  as  though  he  would  go.  But  Robin  Hood 
Robin  Hood  will  laid  h°ld  of  his  clothes  and  held  him.  "  Stay,  my  Lord  Bishop," 
not  let  the  said  he,  "I  have  yet  somewhat  to  say  to  thee."  The  Bishop's 

face  fell,  but  he  stayed  as  Robin  bade  him,  for  he  saw  he  could 
not  go. 

Then  Robin  Hood  turned  to  stout  Edward  of  Deirwold.  and  said  he  :  "  Give 


ROBIN  COMPASSETH  THE  MARRIAGE  OF  TWO  LOVERS.        153 

thy  blessing  on  thy  daughter's  marriage  to  this  yeoman,  and  all  will  be  well. 
Little  John,  give  me  the  bags  of  gold.     Look,  farmer.     Here  are    Robin  offers  two 
two  hundred  bright  golden  angels  ;  give  thy  blessing,  as  i  say,    J^iS^ 
and  I  will  count  them  out  to  thee  as  thy  daughter's  dower.     Give    his  blessing. 
not  thy  blessing,  and  she  shall  be  married  all  the  same,  but  not  so  much  as  a 
cracked  farthing  shall  cross  thy  palm.     Choose." 

Then  Edward  looked  upon  the  ground  with  bent  brows,  turning  the  matter 
over  and  over  in  his  mind  ;  but  he  was  a  shrewd  man  and  one,  withal,  that 
made  the  best  use  of  a  cracked  pipkin ;  so  at  last  he  looked  up  and  said,  but 
in  no  joyous  tone,  "  If  the  wench  will  go  her  own  gait,  let  her  go.  I  had 
thought  to  make  a  lady  of  her  ;  yet  if  she  chooses  to  be  what  she  is  like  to  be, 
I  have  naught  to  do  with  her  henceforth.  Ne'ertheless  I  will  give  her  my 
blessing  when  she  is  duly  wedded." 

"  It  may  not  be,"  spake  up  one  of  those  of  Emmet.  "  The  banns  have  not 
been  duly  published,  neither  is  there  any  priest  here  to  marry  them." 

"  How  sayst  thou  ? "  roared  Tuck  from  the  choir  loft.     "  No  priest  ?     Marry, 
here  stands  as  holy  a  man  as  thou  art,  any  day  of  the  week,  a  clerk  in  orders, 
I  would  have  thee  know.     As  for  the  question  of  banns,  stumble  not  over  that 
straw,  brother,  for  I  will  publish  them."     So  saying,  he  called  the  banns  ;  and, 
says  the  old  ballad,  lest  three  times  should  not  be  enough,  he  published  them 
nine  times  o'er.     Then  straightway  he  came  down  from  the  loft, 
and  forthwith  performed  the  marriage  service  ;  and  so  Allan  and    marries  Allan 
Ellen  were  duly  wedded.  and  Ellen. 

And  now  Robin  counted  out  two  hundred  golden  angels  to  Edward  of  Deir- 
wold,  and  he,  upon  his  part,  gave  his  blessing,  yet  not,  I  wot,  as  though  he 
meant  it  with  overmuch  good  will.  Then  the  stout  yeomen  crowded  around 
and  grasped  Allan's  palm,  and  he,  holding  Ellen's  hand  within  his  own,  looked 
about  him  all  dizzy  with  his  happiness. 

Then  at  last  jolly  Robin  turned  to  the  Bishop  of  Hereford,  who  had  been 
looking  on  at  all  that  passed  with  a  grim  look.  "  My  Lord  Bishop,"  quoth  he, 
"  thou  mayst  bring  to  thy  mind  that  thou  didst  promise  me  that  did  I  play  in 
such  wise  as  to  cause  this  fair  lass  to  love  her  husband,  thou  wouldst  give  me 
whatsoever  I  asked  in  reason.  I  have  played  my  play,  and  she  loveth  her  hus 
band,  which  she  would  not  have  done  but  for  me  ;  so  now  fulfil  thy  promise. 
Thou  hast  upon  thee  that  which,  methinks,  thou  wouldst  be  the  better  without, 
therefore,  I  prythee,  give  me  that  golden  chain  that  hangeth  about  thy  neck  as 
a  wedding  present  for  this  fair  bride." 

Then  the  Bishop's  cheeks  grew  red  with  rage  and  his  eyes  flashed.  He 
looked  at  Robin  with  a  fell  look,  but  saw  that  in  the  yeoman's  face  which  bade 
him  pause.  Then  slowly  he  took  the  chain  from  about  his  neck  and  handed  it 


154      ROBIN  COMPASSETH  THE  MARRIAGE  OF  TWO  LOVERS. 

to  Robin,  who  flung  it  over  Ellen's  head  so  that  it  hung  glittering  about  her 

shoulders.    Then  said  merry  Robin,  "I  thank  thee,  on  the  bride's 

Hereford,  part,  for  thy  handsome  gift,  and  truly  thou  thyself  art  more  seemly 

though  unwiii-      without  it.     Now,  shouldst  thou  ever  come  nigh  to  Sherwood  I 

ing,  givetn  fair  . 

Ellen  a  wedding  much  hope  that  I  shall  give  thee  there  such  a  feast  as  thou  hast 
&ft-  ne'er  had  in  all  thy  life  before." 

"  May  Heaven  forfend  !  "  cried  the  Bishop,  earnestly  ;  for  he  knew  right  well 
what  manner  of  feast  it  was  that  Robin  Hood  gave  his  guests  in  Sherwood 
forest. 

But  now  Robin  Hood  gathered  his  men  together,  and,  with  Allan  and  his 
young  bride  in  their  midst,  they  all  turned  their  footsteps  toward  the  wood 
lands.  On  the  way  thither  Friar  Tuck  came  close  to  Robin  and  plucked  him 
by  the  sleeve.  "  Thou  dost  lead  a  merry  life,  good  master,"  quoth  he,  "  but 
dost  thou  not  think  that  it  would  be  for  the  welfare  of  all  your  souls  to  have  a 
good  stout  chaplain,  such  as  I,  to  oversee  holy  matters  ?  Truly,  I  do  love  this 
Friar  Tuck  life  mightily."  At  this  merry  Robin  Hood  laughed  amain,  and 
jams  the  band.  bade  him  stay  and  become  one  of  their  band  if  he  wished. 

That  night  there  was  such  a  feast  held  in  the  greenwood  as  Nottinghamshire 
never  saw  before.  To  that  feast  you  and  I  were  not  bidden,  and  pity  it  is  that 
we  were  not ;  so,  lest  we  should  both  feel  the  matter  the  more  keenly,  I  will 
say  no  more  about  it. 

Thus  ends  the  merry  story  of  Allan  a  Dale,  and  how  Robin  Hood  and  Friar 
Tuck  benefited  him.  And  now  we  shall  hear  anon  of  other  troubles  than  those 
that  beset  gentle  lovers,  and  how  Robin  Hood  helped  a  good  stout  knight  that 
was  in  sore  need  of  aid.  So  listen  to  what  follows. 


PART  FIFTH. 

In  which  it  is  told  how  that  Robin  Hood  met  a  sorrowful  knight,  and 
brought  him  to  Sherwood.  Also,  how  the  Bishop  of  Hereford  was 
more  generous  than  he  desired  to  be.  Likewise  it  is  told  how  Sir 
Richard  of  the  Lea  paid  his  debts  in  due  season,  both  to  the  Prior 
of  Emmet  and  to  Robin  Hood. 

I. 

Robin   Hood  aideth  a  Sorrowful  Knight. 

|O  passed  the  gentle  springtime  away  in  budding  beauty  ; 
its  silver  showers  and  sunshine,  its  green  meadows  and 
its  flowers.  So,  likewise,  passed  the  summer  with  its 
yellow  sunlight,  its  quivering  heat  and  deep,  bosky  foli 
age,  its  long  twilights  and  its  mellow  nights,  through 
which  the  frogs  croaked  and  fairy  folk  were  said  to  be 
out  on  the  hillsides.  All  this  had  passed  and  the  time 
of  fall  had  come,  bringing  with  it  its  own  pleasures  and 
joyousness  ;  for  now,  when  the  harvest  was  gathered  home,  merry  bands  of 


158  ROBIN  HOOD  AIDETH  A   SORROWFUL  KNIGHT. 

gleaners  roamed  the  country  about,  singing  along  the  roads  in  the  daytime,  and 
sleeping  beneath  the  hedgerows  and  the  hay-ricks  at  night.  Now  the  hips 
burned  red  in  the  tangled  thickets  and  the  haws  waxed  black  in  the  hedgerows, 
the  stubble  lay  all  crisp  and  naked  to  the  sky,  and  the  green  leaves  were  fast 
turning  russet  and  brown.  Also,  at  this  merry  season,  good  things  of  the  year 
are  gathered  in  in  great  store.  Brown  ale  lies  ripening  in  the  cellar,  hams  and 
bacon  hang  in  the  smoke-shed,  and  crabs  are  stowed  away  in  the  straw  for 
roasting  in  the  winter  time,  when  the  north  wind  piles  the  snow  in  drifts 
around  the  gables  and  the  fire  crackles  warm  upon  the  hearth. 

So  passed  the  seasons  then,  so  they  pass  now,  and  so  they  will  pass  in  time 
to  come,  whilst  we  come  and  go  like  leaves  of  the  tree  that  fall  and  are  soon 
forgotten. 

Quoth  Robin  Hood,  snuffing  the  air,  "  Here  is  a  fair  day,  Little  John,  and 
one  that  we  can  ill  waste  in  idleness.  Choose  such  men  as  thou  dost  need, 
and  go  thou  east  while  I  will  wend  to  the  west,  and  see  that  each  of  us  bring- 
eth  back  some  goodly  guest  to  dine  this  day  beneath  the  greenwood  tree." 

"  Marry,"  cried  Little  John,  clapping  his  palms  together  for  joy,  "  thy  bidding 
fitteth  my  liking  like  haft  to  blade.  I  '11  bring  thee  back  a  guest  this  day,  or 
come  not  back  mine  own  self." 

Then  they  each  chose  such  of  the  band  as  they  wished,  and  so  went  forth 
,  by  different  paths  from  the  forest. 

Room  Hood  and 

Little  John,  each  Now,  you  and  I  cannot  go  two  ways  at  the  same  time  whilst  we 
'^folih'TS'k  J°in  in  these  merry  doings  ;  so  we  will  e'en  let  Little  John  follow 
eTts  f°dine  in  his  °Wn  pat^  wni^e  we  tu°k  UP  our  skirts  and  trudge  after  Robin 
Hood.  And  here  is  good  company,  too  ;  Robin  Hood,  Will  Scar 
let,  Allan  a  Dale,  Will  Scathelock,  Midge,  the  Miller's  son,  and  others.  A  score 
or  more  of  stout  fellows  had  abided  in  the  forest,  with  Friar  Tuck,  to  make 
ready  for  the  home-coming,  but  all  the  rest  were  gone  either  with  Robin  Hood 
or  Little  John. 

They  travelled  onward,  Robin  following  his  fancy  and  the  others  following 
Robin.  Now  they  wended  their  way  through  an  open  dale  with  cottage  and 
farm  lying  therein,  and  now  again  they  entered  woodlands  once  more.  Passing 
by  fair  Mansfield  Town,  with  its  towers  and  battlements  and  spires  all  smiling 
in  the  sun,  they  came  at  last  out  of  the  forest  lands.  Onward  they  journeyed, 
through  highway  and  byway,  through  villages  where  good  wives  and  merry 
lasses  peeped  through  the  casements  at  the  fine  show  of  young  men,  until  at 
last  they  came  over  beyond  Alverton  in  Derbyshire.  By  this  time  high  noon 
tide  had  come,  yet  they  had  met  no  guest  such  as  was  worth  their  while  to  take 
back  to  Sherwood  ;  so,  coming  at  last  to  a  certain  spot  where  a  shrine  stood  at 


ROBIN  HOOD  AIDETH  A   SORROWFUL  KNIGHT.  159 

the  crossing  of  two  roads,  Robin  called  upon  them  to  stop,  for  here  on  either 
side  was  shelter  of  high  hedgerows,  behind  which  was  good  hiding,  Robin  and  his 
whence  they  could  watch  the  roads  at  their  ease,  whilst  they  ate  band  rest  at  the 

.       cross-roads  to 

their  midday  meal.  Quoth  merry  Robin,  "Here,  methinks,  is  eat  their  midday 
good  lodging,  where  peaceful  folk,  such  as  we  be,  can  eat  in  qui-  meal' 
etness  ;  therefore  we  will  rest  here,  and  see  what  may,  perchance,  fall  into  our 
luck-pot."  So  they  crossed  a  stile  and  came  behind  a  hedgerow  where  the 
mellow  sunlight  was  bright  and  warm,  and  where  the  grass  was  soft,  and  there 
sat  them  down.  Then  each  man  drew  from  the  pouch  that  hung  beside  him 
that  which  he  had  brought  to  eat,  for  a  merry  walk  such  as  this  had  been 
sharpens  the  appetite  till  it  is  as  keen  as  a  March  wind.  So  no  more  words 
were  spoken,  but  each  man  saved  his  teeth  for  better  use,  —  munching  at 
brown  crust  and  cold  meat  right  lustily. 

In  front  of  them,  one  of  the  high-roads  crawled  up  the  steep  hill  and  then 
dipped  suddenly  over  its  crest,  sharp-cut  with  hedgerow  and  shaggy  grass 
against  the  sky.  Over  the  top  of  the  windy  hill  peeped  the  eaves  of  a  few 
houses  of  the  village  that  fell  back  into  the  valley  behind  ;  there,  also,  showed 
the  top  of  a  windmill,  the  sails  slowly  rising  and  dipping  from  behind  the  hill 
against  the  clear  blue  sky,  as  the  light  wind  moved  them  with  creaking  and 
labored  swing. 

So  the  yeomen  lay  behind  the  hedge  and  finished  their  midday  meal  ;  but 
still  the  time  slipped  along,  and  no  one  came.  At  last,  a  man  came  .slowly 
riding  over  the  hill,  and  down  the  stony  road  toward  the  spot  The  veomen  see 
where  Robin  and  his  band  lay  hidden.  He  was  a  good  stout  a  sorrmvfui 

1-1-1  rirr  /••  T     •          i        -i  knight  COHie 

knight,  but  sorrowful  of  face  and  downcast  of  mien.  His  clothes  riding  down  the 
were  plain  and  rich,  but  no  chain  of  gold,  such  as  folk  of  his  stand  hl11' 
in  life  wore  at  most  times,  hung  around  his  neck,  and  no  jewel  was  about  him  ; 
yet  no  one  could  mistake  him  for  aught  but  one  of  proud  and  noble  blood. 
His  head  was  bowed  upon  his  breast  and  his  hands  drooped  limp  on  either 
side ;  and  so  he  came  slowly  riding,  as  though  sunk  in  sad  thoughts,  whilst 
even  his  good  horse,  the  reins  loose  upon  his  neck,  walked  with  hanging  head, 
as  though  he  shared  his  master's  grief. 

Quoth  Robin  Hood,  "  Yon  is  verily  a  sorry-looking  gallant,  and  doth  seem 
to  have  donned  ill-content  with  his  jerkin  this  morning;  nevertheless,  I  will 
out  and  talk  with  him,  for  there  may  be  some  pickings  here  for  a  hungry  daw. 
Methinks  his  dress  is  rich,  though  he  himself  is  so  downcast.  Bide  ye  here  till 
I  look  into  this  matter."  So  saying,  he  arose  and  left  them,  crossed  the  road 
to  the  shrine,  and  there  stood,  waiting  for  the  sorrowful  Knight  goMn  Hood 
to  come  near  him.  So,  presently,  when  the  Knight  came  riding  st°£s  the  Knisht' 
slowly  along,  jolly  Robin  stepped  forward  and  laid  his  hand  upon  the  bridle 


160  ROBIN  HOOD  AIDETH  A   SORROWFUL  KNIGHT. 

rein.  "  Hold,  Sir  Knight,"  quoth  he.  "  I  prythee  tarry  for  a  short  time,  for  I 
have  a  few  words  to  say  to  thee." 

"  What  art  thou,  friend,  who  dost  stop  a  traveller  in  this  manner  upon  his 
most  gracious  Majesty's  highway  ?  "  said  the  Knight. 

"  Marry,"  quoth  Robin,  "  that  is  a  question  hard  to  answer.  One  man  call- 
eth  me  kind,  another  calleth  me  cruel ;  this  one  calleth  me  good,  honest  fellow, 
and  that  one  vile  thief.  Truly,  the  world  hath  as  many  eyes  to  look  upon  a 
man  withal  as  there  are  spots  on  a  toad  ;  so,  with  what  pair  of  eyes  thou  re- 
gardest  me  lieth  entirely  with  thine  own  self.  My  name  is  Robin  Hood." 

"  Truly,  good  Robin,"  said  the  Knight,  a  smile  twitching  at  the  corners  of  his 
mouth,  "  thou  hast  a  quaint  conceit.  As  for  the  pair  of  eyes  with  which  I  re 
gard  thee,  I  would  say  that  they  are  as  favorable  as  may  be,  for  I  hear  much 
good  of  thee  and  little  ill.  What  is  thy  will  of  me  ?  " 

"  Now,  I  make  my  vow,  Sir  Knight,"  quoth  Robin,  "  thou  hast  surely  learned 
thy  wisdom  of  good  Gaffer  Swanthold,  for  he  sayeth,  '  Fair  words  are  as  easy 
Robin  Hcodasks  sP°ke  as  ^ou^  anc^  bring  good  will  in  the  stead  of  blows.'  Now  I 
the  Knight  to  will  show  thee  the  truth  of  this  saying ;  for,  if  thou  wilt  go  with 

come  and  feast  «  »      «  <-.,  T       --M      •          i  r 

•with  them  in  me  this  day  to  Sherwood  Forest,  I  will  give  thee  as  merry  a  feast 
as  ever  thou  hadst  in  all  thy  life." 

"  Thou  art  indeed  kind,"  said  the  Knight,  "  but  methinks  thou  wilt  find  me 
but  an  ill-seeming  and  sorrowful  guest.  Thou  hadst  best  let  me  pass  on  my 
way  in  peace." 

"  Nay,"  quoth  Robin,  "  thou  mightst  go  thine  own  way  but  for  one  thing, 
and  that  I  will  tell  thee.  We  keep  an  inn,  as  it  were,  in  the  very  depths  of 
Sherwood,  but  so  far  from  high-roads  and  beaten  paths  that  guests  do  not  often 
come  nigh  us  ;  so  I  and  my  friends  set  off  merrily  and  seek  them  when  we 
grow  dull  of  ourselves.  Thus  the  matter  stands,  Sir  Knight ;  yet  I  will  further 
more  tell  thee  that  we  count  upon  pur  guests  paying  a  reckoning." 

"  I  take  thy  meaning,  friend,"  said  the  Knight,  gravely,  "  but  I  am  not  thy 
man,  for  I  have  no  money  by  me." 

"Is  it  sooth?"  said  Robin,  looking  at  the  Knight  keenly.  "I  can  scarce 
choose  but  believe  thee  ;  yet,  Sir  Knight,  there  be  those  of  thy  order  whose 
word  is  not  to  be  trusted  as  much  as  they  would, have  others  believe.  Thou 
wilt  think  no  ill  if  I  look  for  myself  in  this  matter."  Then,  still  holding  the 
horse  by  the  bridle  rein,  he  put  his  fingers  to  his  lips  and  blew  a  shrill  whistle, 
whereupon  fourscore  yeomen  came  leaping  over  the  stile,  and  ran  to  where  the 
Knight  and  Robin  stood.  "These,"  said  Robin,  looking  upon  them  proudly, 
"  are  some  of  my  merry  men.  They  share  and  share  alike  with  me  all  joys  and 
troubles,  gains  and  losses.  Sir  Knight,  I  prythee  tell  me  what  money  thou 
hast  about  thee." 


ROBIN  HOOD  AIDETH  A   SORROWFUL  KNIGHT.  161 

For  a  time  the  Knight   said   not   a  word,  but  a   slow  red   arose   into  his 
cheeks  ;  at  last  he  looked  Robin  in  the  face  and  said  :  "  I  know      hg        h( 
not  why  I  should  be  ashamed,  for  it  should  be  no  shame  to  me  ;    owneth  to  Robin 
but,  friend,  I  tell  thee  the  truth,  when  I  say  that  in  my  purse  are    naught  fait  \en 
ten  shillings,  and  that  that  is  every  groat  that  Sir  Richard  of  the    Billings. 
Lea  hath  in  a1!  the  wide  world." 

When  Sir  Richard  ended  a  silence  fell,  until  at  last  Robin  said  :  "  And  dost 
thou  pledge  me  thy  knightly  word  that  this  is  all  thou  hast  with  thee  ? " 

"  Yea,"  answered  Sir  Richard,  "  I  do  pledge  thee  my  most  solemn  word,  as  a 
true  knight,  that  it  is  all  the  money  I  have  in  the  world.  Nay,  here  is  my 
purse,  ye  may  find  for  yourselves  the  truth  of  what  I  say."  And  he  held  his 
purse  out  to  Robin. 

"  Put  up  thy  purse,   Sir  Richard,"  quoth  Robin.     "  Far  be  it  from  me  to 
doubt  the  word  of  so  gentle  a  knight.     The  proud  I  strive  to    R0binwuinot 
bring  low,  but  those  that  walk  in  sorrow  I  would  aid  if  I  could,    dmbt  the 
Come,  Sir  Richard,  cheer  up  thy  heart  and  go  with  us  into  the 
greenwood.     Even  I  may  perchance  aid  thee,  for  thou  surely  knowest  how  the 
good  Athelstane  was  saved  by  the  little  blind  mole  that  digged  a  trench  over 
which  he  that  sought  the  king's  life  stumbled." 

"Truly,  friend,"  said  Sir  Richard,  "methinks  thou  meanest  kindness  in  thine 
own  way  ;  nevertheless  my  troubles  are  such  that  it  is  not  likely  that  thou 
canst  cure  them.  But  I  will  go  with  thee  this  day  into  Sherwood."  Hereupon 
he  turned  his  horse's  head,  and  they  all  wended  their  way  to  the  woodlands, 
Robin  walking  on  one  side  of  the  Knight  and  Will  Scarlet  on  the  other,  whilst 
the  rest  of  the  band  trudged  behind. 

After  they  had  travelled  thus  for  a  time  Robin  Hood  spake.  "  Sir  Knight," 
said  he,  "  I  would  not  trouble  thee  with  idle  questions  ;  but  dost  thou  find  it  in 
thy  heart  to  tell  me  thy  sorrows  ? " 

"  Truly,  Robin,"  quoth  the  Knight,  "  I  see  no  reason  why  I  should  not  do  so. 
Thus  it  is  :  My  castle  and  my  lands  are  in  pawn  for  a  debt  that  I  The  Knigjlt  teu_ 
owe.  Three  days  hence  the  money  must  be  paid  or  else  all  mine  etk  Robin  Hood 

i          r     '  r  r   ,,  i        r     t       T-.  •  ***  story  as  they 

estate  is  lost  forever,  for  then  it  falls  into  the  hands  of  the  Priory  journey  toward 
of  Emmet,  and  what  they  swallow  they  never  give  forth  again." 

Quoth  Robin,  "  I  understand  not  why  those  of  thy  kind  live  in  such  a  man 
ner  that  all  their  wealth  passeth  from  them  like  snow  beneath  the  springtide 
.sun." 

"  Thou  wrongest  me,  Robin,"  said  the  Knight,  "  for  listen  :  I  have  a  son  but 
twenty  winters  old,  nevertheless  he  has  won  his  spurs  as  knight.  Last  year, 
on  a  certain  evil  day,  the  jousts  were  held  at  Chester,  and  thither  my  son  went, 
as  did  I  and  my  lady  wife.  I  wot  it  was  a  proud  time  for  us,  for  he  unhorsed 


162  ROBIN  HOOD  AIDETH  A   SORROWFUL  KNIGHT. 

each  knight  that  he  tilted  against.  At  last  he  ran  a  course  with  a  certain  great 
knight,  Sir  Walter  of  Lancaster,  yet,  though  my  son  was  so  youthful,  he  kept 
his  seat,  albeit  both  spears  were  shivered  to  the  haft ;  but  it  happened  that  a 
splinter  of  my  boy's  lance  ran  through  the  visor  of  Sir  Walter's  helmet,  and 
pierced  through  his  eye  into  his  brain,  so  that  he  died  ere  his  esquire  could 
unlace  his  helm.  Now,  Robin,  Sir  Walter  had  great  friends  at  court,  therefore 
his  kinsmen  stirred  up  things  against  my  son  so  that,  to  save  him  from  prison, 
I  had  to  pay  a  ransom  of  six  hundred  pounds  in  gold.  All  might  have  gone 
well  even  yet,  only  that,  by  ins  and  outs  and  crookedness  of  laws,  I  was  shorn 
like  a  sheep  that  is  clipped  to  the  quick.  So  it  came  that  I  had  to  pawn  my 
lands  to  the  Priory  of  Emmet  for  more  money,  and  a  hard  bargain  they  drove 
with  me  in  my  hour  of  need.  Yet  I  would  have  thee  understand  I  grieve  so 
for  my  lands  only  because  of  my  dear  lady  wife." 

"  But  where  is  thy  son  now  ?"  asked  Robin,  who  had  listened  closely  to  all 
the  Knight  had  said. 

"  In  Palestine,"  said  Sir  Richard,  "  battling  like  a  brave  Christian  soldier  for 
the  cross  and  the  holy  sepulchre.  Truly,  England  was  an  ill  place  for  him 
because  of  Sir  Walter's  death,  and  the  hate  of  the  Lancastrian's  kinsmen." 

"  Truly,"  said  Robin,  much  moved,  "  thine  is  a  hard  lot.  But  tell  me,  what 
is  owing  to  Emmet  for  thine  estates  ?  " 

"  Only  four  hundred  pounds,"  said  Sir  Richard. 

At  this  Robin  smote  his  thigh  in  anger.  "  O  the  blood-suckers  !  "  cried  he. 
"  A  noble  estate  to  be  forfeit  for  four  hundred  pounds !  But  what  will  befall 
thee  if  thou  dost  lose  thy  lands,  Sir  Richard  ? " 

"  It  is  not  mine  own  lot  that  doth  trouble  me  in  that  case,"  said  the  Knight, 
"  but  my  dear  lady's  ;  for  should  I  lose  my  land  she  will  have  to  betake  herself 
to  some  kinsman  and  there  abide  in  charity,  which,  methinks,  would  break  her 
proud  heart.  As  for  me,  I  will  over  the  salt  sea,  and  so  to  Palestine  to  join 
my  son  in  fight  for  the  holy  sepulchre." 

Then  up  spake  Will  Scarlet.  "  But  hast  thou  no  friend  that  will  help  thee 
in  thy  dire  need  ? " 

"  Never  a  man,"  said  Sir  Richard.  "  Whilst  I  was  rich  enow  at  home,  and 
had  friends,  they  blew  great  boasts  of  how  they  loved  me.  But  when  the  oak 
falls  in  the  forest  the  swine  run  from  beneath  it  lest  they  should  be  smitten 
down  also.  So  my  friends  have  left  me  ;  for  not  only  am  I  poor  but  I  have 
great  enemies." 

Then  Robin  said,  "  Thou  sayst  thou  hast  no  friends,  Sir  Richard.  I  make 
Robin  biddeth  the  no  ^oast,  but  many  have  found  Robin  Hood  a  friend  in  their 
Knight  to  cheer  troubles.  Cheer  up,  Sir  Knight,  I  may  help  thee  yet." 

The  Knight  shook  his  head  with  a  faint  smile,  but  for  all  that 


ROBIN  HOOD  AIDETH  A   SORROWFUL  KNIGHT.  163 

Robin's  words  made  him  more  blithe  of  heart,  for  in  truth  hope,  be  it  never  so 
faint,  bringeth  a  gleam  into  darkness,  like  a  little  rushlight  that  costeth  but  a 
groat. 

The  day  was  well-nigh  gone  when  they  came  near  to  the  greenwood  tree. 
Even  at  a  distance  they  saw  by  the  number  of  men  that  Little 

f  J  Robin  findeth 

John  had  corne  back  with  some  guest,  but  when  they  came  near  guests  in  thefor- 
enough,  who  should  they  find  but  the  Lord  Bishop  of  Hereford.  «*««***% 
The  good  Bishop  was  in  a  fine  stew,  I  wot.  Up  and  down  he  walked  beneath 
the  tree  like  a  fox  caught  in  a  hencoop.  Behind  him  were  three  black  friars 
standing  close  together  in  a  frightened  group,  like  three  black  sheep  in  a  tem 
pest.  Hitched  to  the  branches  of  the  trees  close  at  hand  were  six  horses,  one 
of  them  a  barb  with  gay  trappings  upon  which  the  Bishop  was  wont  to  ride, 
and  the  others  laden  with  packs  of  divers  shapes  and  kinds,  one  of  which  made 
Robin's  eyes  glisten,  for  it  was  a  box  not  over  large,  but  heavily  bound  with 
bands  and  ribs  of  iron. 

When  the  Bishop  saw  Robin  and  those  with  him  come  into  the  open  he  made 
as  though  he  would  have  run  toward  the  yeoman,  but  the  fellow  that  guarded 
the  Bishop  and  the  three  friars  thrust  his  quarterstaff  in  front,  so  that  his  lord 
ship  was  fain  to  stand  back,  though  with  frowning  brow  and  angry  speech. 

"  Stay,  my  Lord  Bishop,"  cried  jolly  Robin,  in  a  loud  voice,  when  he  saw 
what  had  passed  ;  "  I  will  come  to  thee  with  all  speed,  for  I  would  rather  see 
thee  than  any  man  in  merry  England."  So  saying,  he  quickened  his  steps,  and 
soon  came  to  where  the  Bishop  stood  fuming. 

"  How  now,"  quoth  the  Bishop  in  a  loud  and  angry  voice,  when  Robin  had 
so  come  to  him,  "  is  this  the  way  that  thou  and  thy  band  treat  one  so  high  in 
the  church  as  I  am  ?     I  and  these  brethren  were  passing  peace-    The  Bishop  Oj- 
fully  along  the  high-road  with  our  packhorses,  and  a  half  score  of    Hereford  com- 

J  •         r   11          r    n    plaineth  of  Little 

men  to  guard  them,  when  up  comes  a  great  strapping  tellow  lull  johnandof 
seven  feet  high,  with  fourscore  or  more  men  back  of  him,  and  Friar  Tnck- 
calls  upon  me  to  stop — me,  the  Lord  Bishop  of  Hereford,  mark  thou !  Where 
upon  my  armed  guards  —  beshrew  them  for  cowards  !  —  straight  ran  away. 
But  look  ye  ;  not  only  did  this  fellow  stop  me,  but  he  threatened  me,  saying 
that  Robin  Hood  would  strip  me  as  bare  as  a  winter  hedge.  Then,  beside  all 
this,  he  called  me  such  vile  names  as  '  fat  priest,'  '  man-eating  bishop,'  '  money- 
gorging  usurer,'  and  what  not,  as  though  I  were  no  more  than  a  strolling 
beggar  or  tinker.  Moreover,  when  I  came  here  I  found  a  great  fat  man,  a 
mock  priest,  that  slapped  me  upon  the  shoulder  as  though  I,  God  wot,  were  a 
pot-house  fellow." 

"  Marry,  come  up  with  a  wanion  !  "  cried  Friar  Tuck,  bustling  forward  and 
thrusting  himself  in  front  of  the  Bishop ;  "  Marry  come  up,  I  say  ! "  and  he 


164  ROBIN  HOOD  AIDETH  A   SORROWFUL  KNIGHT. 

snapped  his  fingers  under  the  Bishop's  nose,  whereat  the  other  started  back  as 
though  the  snap  were  a  clap  of  thunder.  "  Mock  priest !  thou  callest  me,  for 
sooth  !  Look  ye  now,  Bishop,  I  wot  I  am  as  holy  a  man  as  thou  art,  and  might 
have  been  a  bishop  mine  own  self,  had  I  not  been  born  under  a  hedge.  I  am 
as  learned,  too,  as  thou  art,  albeit  I  could  never  master  that  vile  Latin,  my 
tongue  being  only  shaped  for  good  stout  English  ;  yet  I  tell  thee,  I  can  say 
my  '  Paters '  and  '  Aves '  with  no  more  a  slip  o'  the  tongue  than  thou,  thou  fat 
man  !  " 

At  this  the  Bishop  glared  upon  the  stout  Friar  like  an  angry  cat,  whilst  even 
Sir  Richard  laughed  ;  only  Robin  kept  a  grave  face.  "  Stand  back,  Tuck," 
said  he,  "  thou  shouldst  not  beard  his  lordship's  reverence  in  this  wise.  Alas  ! 
my  lord,  that  thou  hast  been  so  ill-treated  by  my  band  !  I  tell  thee  truly  that 
we  greatly  reverence  thy  cloth.  Little  John,  stand  forth  straightway." 

At  these  words  Little  John  came  forward,  twisting  his  face  into  a  whimsical 
look,  as  though  he  would  say,  "Ha'  mercy  upon  me,  good  master."  Then 
Robin  turned  to  the  Bishop  of  Hereford  and  said:  "Was  this  the  man  who 
spake  so  boldly  to  your  lordship  ? " 

"Ay,  truly  it  was  the  same,"  said  the  Bishop  ;  "  a  naughty  fellow,  I  wot." 
Robin  Hood pre-       "And  didst  thou,  Little  John,"  said  Robin,  in  a  sad  voice,  "call 
tends  to  take  Lit-    his  lordship  a  fat  priest  ?  " 

"Ay,"  said  Little  John,  sorrowfully. 

"  And  a  man-eating  bishop  ?  " 

"  Ay,"  said  Little  John,  more  sorrowfully  than  before. 

"  And  a  money-gorging  usurer  ?  " 

"  Ay,"  said  Little  John,  in  so  sorrowful  a  voice  that  it  might  have  drawn 
tears  from  the  Dragon  of  Wentley. 

"  Alas,  that  these  things  should  be  ! "  said  jolly  Robin,  turning  to  the  Bishop, 
"for  I  have  ever  found  Little  John  a  truthful  man." 

At  this  a  roar  of  laughter  went  up,  whereat  the  blood  rushed  into  the  Bishop's 
face  till  it  was  cherry  red  from  crown  to  chin  ;  but  he  said  nothing,  and  only 
swallowed  his  words,  though  they  well-nigh  choked  him. 

"  Nay,  my  Lord  Bishop,"  said  Robin,  "  we  are  rough  fellows,  but  I  trust  not 
such  ill  men  as  thou  thinkest,  after  all.  There  is  not  a  man  here  that  would 
harm  a  hair  of  thy  reverence's  head.  I  know  thou  art  galled  by  our  jesting, 
but  we  are  all  equal  here  in  the  greenwood,  for  there  are  no  bishops  nor  barons 
nor  earls  among  us,  but  only  men,  so  thou  must  share  our  life  with  us  whilst 
thou  dost  abide  here.  Come,  busk  ye,  my  merry  men,  and  get  the  feast  ready. 
Meantime  we  will  show  our  guests  our  woodland  sports." 

So,  whilst  some  went  to  kindle  the  fires  for  roasting  meats,  others  ran  leap 
ing  to  get  their  cudgels  and  long  bows.  Then  Robin  brought  forward  Sir 


ROBIN  HOOD  AIDETH  A   SORROWFUL  KNIGHT.  165 

Richard  o'  the  Lea.  "  My  Lord  Bishop,"  said  he,  "  here  is  another  guest  that 
we  have  with  us  this  day.  I  wish  that  thou  mightst  know  him  better,  for  I 
and  all  my  men  will  strive  to  honor  you  both  at  this  merrymaking." 

"Sir  Richard,"  said  the  Bishop,  in  a  reproachful  tone,  "methinks  thou  and 
I  are  companions  and  fellow  sufferers  in  this  den  of" —     He    The  Bishop  of 
was  about  to  say  "  thieves,"  but  he  stopped  suddenly  and  looked    Hereford  re- 

^  -r.    i  •       T  T       j  preaches  Sir 

askance  at  Robin  Hood.  Richard  of  the 

"  Speak  out,  Bishop,"  quoth  Robin,  laughing.     "  We  of  Sher-   Lea- 
wood  check  not  an  easy  flow  of  words.     '  Den  of  thieves '  thou  wast  about  to 
say." 

Quoth  the  Bishop,  "  Mayhap  that  was  what  I  meant  to  say,  Sir  Richard  ; 
but  this  I  will  say,  that  I  saw  thee  just  now  laugh  at  the  scurrilous  jests  of 
these  fellows.  It  would  have  been  more  becoming  of  thee,  methinks,  to  have 
checked  them  with  frowns  instead  of  spurring  them  on  by  laughter." 

"  I  meant  no  harm  to  thee,"  said  Sir  Richard  ;  "  but  a  merry  jest  is  a  merry 
jest,  and  I  may  truly  say  I  would  have  laughed  at  it  had  it  been  against  mine 
own  self." 

But  now  Robin  Hood  called  upon  certain  ones  of  his  band  who  spread  soft 
moss  upon  the  ground  and  laid  deer  skins  thereon.  Then  Robin  bade  his 
guests  be  seated,  and  so  they  all  three  sat  down,  some  of  the  chief  men,  such 
as  Little  John,  Will  Scarlet,  Allan  a  Dale,  and  others,  stretch- 

T-I  i  •**  yeomen 

ing  themselves  upon  the  ground  near  by.     Then  a  garland  was    shoot  before  the 
set  up  at  the  far  end  of  the  glade,  and  thereat  the  bowmen  shot,  ^rd°and  Sr^ 
and  such  shooting  was  done  that  day  as  it  would  have  made  one's    Richard  of  the 
heart  leap  to  see.     And  all  the  while  Robin  talked  so  quaintly  to 
the  Bishop  and  the  Knight  that,  the  one  forgetting  his  vexation  and  the  other 
his  troubles,  they  both  laughed  aloud  again  and  again. 

Ten  men  shot  three  rounds  of  arrows  each,  and  although  the  garland  was  but 
three  palms'  breadth  wide,  and  was  full  sevenscore  yards  distant,  only  two 
arrows  went  without  the  ring.  "  By  Our  Lady,  good  friend,"  said  the  Bishop 
to  Robin,  "  never  did  I  see  such  shooting  in  all  my  life  as  these  men  of  thine 
do.  But  I  have  heard  so  oft  of  thy  skill,  canst  thou  not  show  us  a  touch 
of  it  ? " 

"  Why,"  quoth  Robin,  "  the  light  groweth  somewhat  dim,  and  things  begin 
to  glimmer,  ne'ertheless  I  will  try  what  I  can  do."     So  saying  he    Robin  Hood 
arose  from  where  he  sat,  then,  drawing  his  dagger,  he  cut  a  hazel    ^ho^and  the 
wand  a  little  greater  in  girth  than  a  man's  thumb,  and  peeling    Knight. 
the  bark  therefrom,  he  walked  with  measured  steps  fourscore  yards  distance. 
There  he  thrust  the  staff  into  the  ground  and  came  back  to  where  the  others 
sat,  and  Allan  a  Dale  handed  him  his  good  stout  yew  bow,  which  Robin  forth- 


1 66  ROBIN  HOOD  AIDETH  A   SORROWFUL  KNIGHT. 

with  strung.  Then  emptying  his  quiver  upon  the  ground,  he  searched  among 
the  arrows  carefully  till  he  had  chosen  one  to  his  liking.  Having  so  done,  he 
nocked  the  arrow  and  stood  in  position,  and  all  around  was  so  hushed  that  you 
might  have  heard  the  falling  of  a  leaf.  Then  he  drew  the  string  quickly  to  his 
ear,  and  straightened  his  bow  arm,  and  ere  you  could  draw  a  breath  loosed  the 
string  with  a  twang.  So  swift  flew  the  arrow  that  the  eye  could  not  follow  it, 
but  a  great  shout  went  up  from  the  yeomen  when  it  had  sped,  and  Will  Scathe- 
Robin  Hood  1°°^  ran  leaping  and  brought  the  wand,  and  lo,  the  arrow  was 
cleaves  the  wand,  sticking  in  the  wood  which  it  had  cleft.  Then  all  the  yeomen 
shouted  again  till  those  about  the  fires  came  running,  for  they  were  proud  of 
their  master's  skill,  which  none  could  hope  to  match. 

But  meantime  Robin  had  set  him  down  again  between  his  guests ;  then, 
without  giving  them  time  for  word  of  praise,  he  called  upon  those  of  his  band 
who  were  the  most  deft  at  quarterstaff.  So  they  sat  and  watched  the  game  till 
the  shades  of  evening  fell,  and  there  was  no  light  in  which  to  give  stroke  or 
parry. 

Then  Allan  a  Dale  came  forth  and  tuned  his  harp,  and  all  was  hushed 
around,  and  he  saner  in  his  wondrous  voice  songs  of  love,  of  war, 

Allan  a  Dale 

sings  before  the     of  glory,  and  of  sadness,  and  all  listened  without  a  movement  or  a 
sound.     So  Allan  sang  till  the  great  'round  silver  moon  gleamed 
with  its  clear  white  light  amid  the  upper  tangle  of  the  mazy  branches  of  the 
trees. 

At  last  two  fellows  came  to  say  that  the  feast  was  ready  spread,  so  Robin, 
leading  his  guests  with  either  hand,  brought  them  to  where  great  smoking 
dishes,  that  sent  savory  smells  far  and  near,  stood  along  the  white  linen  cloth 
spread  on  the  grass.  All  around  was  a  glare  of  torches  that  lit  everything  up 
Robin  Hood  w*tn  a  rec*  light.  Then,  straightway  sitting  down,  all  fell  to  with 
feasts  the  Bishop  noise  and  hubbub,  the  rattling  of  platters  blending  with  the  sound 

of  Hereford  and        .   .  &. 

Sir  Richard  of     ot  loud  talking  and  laughter.     Along  time  the  feast  lasted,  but 
at  last  all  was  over,  and  the  bright  wine  and  humming  ale  passed 
briskly.     Then  Robin  Hood  called  aloud  for  silence,  and  all  was  hushed  till  he 
spoke. 

"  I  have  a  story  to  tell  you  all,  so  listen  to  what  I  have  to  say,"  quoth  he  ; 
Robin  Hood  tell-  whereupon,  without  more  ado,  he  told  them  all  about  Sir  Richard, 
*Sir  *  Richard  °/f  anc*  now  n^s  lands  were  in  pawn.  But,  as  he  went  on,  the  Bish- 
the  Lea.  Op's  face,  that  had  erst  been  smiling  and  ruddy  with  merriment, 

waxed  serious,  and  he  put  aside  the  horn  of  wine  he  held  in  his  hand,  for  he 
knew  the  story  of  Sir  Richard,  and  his  heart  sank  within  him  with  grim  fore 
bodings.  Then,  when  Robin  Hood  had  done,  he  turned  to  the  Bishop  of  Here 
ford.  "  Now,  my  Lord  Bishop,"  said  he,  "  dost  thou  not  think  this  is  ill  done 


ROBIN  HOOD  AIDETH  A   SORROWFUL  KNIGHT.  167 

of  any  one,  much  more  of  a  churchman,  who  should  live  in  humbleness  and 
charity  ?  " 

To  this  the  Bishop  answered  not  a  word,  but  looked  upon  the  ground  with 
moody  eyes. 

Quoth  Robin,  "  Now,  thou  art  the  richest  bishop  in  all  England ;  canst  thou 
not  help  this  needy  brother  ?  "  But  still  the  Bishop  answered  not 

'  Robin  Hood  ask- 

a  WOrd.  eth  the  Bishop  to 

Then  Robin  turned  to  Little  John,  and  quoth  he,  "  Go  thou  and    aidthe  Knigkt- 
Will  Stutely  and  bring  forth  those  five  pack-horses  yonder."     Whereupon  the 
two  yeomen  did  as  they  were  bidden,  those  about  the  cloth  mak-   £objn  pfood  or. 
ing  room  on  the  green,  where  the  light  was  brightest,  for  the  five    ^s  ljie  Bisfl- 
horses  which  Little  John  and  Will  Stutely  presently  led  forward.     °to  be  brought" 

"  Who  hath  the  score  of  the  goods  ? "  asked  Robin  Hood,  look-    forih" 
ing  at  the  Black  Friars. 

Then  up  spake  the  smallest  of  all,  in  a  trembling  voice, — an  old  man  he  was, 
with  a  gentle,  wrinkled  face.  "  That  have  I ;  but,  I  pray  thee,  harm  me  not." 

"  Nay,"  quoth  Robin,  "  I  have  never  harmed  harmless  man  yet ;  but  give  it 
to  me,  good  father."     So  the  old  man  did  as  he  was  bidden,  and    Robin  Hood di- 
handed  Robin  the  tablet  on  which  was  marked  down  the  account    Vtl0d^e  feest  f^-s 
of  the  various  packages  upon  the  horses.     This  Robin  handed  to  power. 
Will  Scarlet,  bidding  him  to  read  the  same.     So  Will  Scarlet,  lifting  his  voice 
that  all  might  hear,  began :  — 

"  Three  bales  of  silk  to  Quentin,  the  mercer  at  Ancaster." 

"  That  we  touch  not,"  quoth  Robin,  "  for  this  Quentin  is  an  honest  fellow, 
who  hath  risen  by  his  own  thrift."  So  the  bales  of  silk  were  laid  aside  without 
being  opened. 

"  One  bale  of  silk  velvet  for  the  Abbey  of  Beaumont." 

"  What  do  these  priests  want  of  silk  velvet  ? "  quoth  Robin.  "  Nevertheless, 
though  they  need  it  not,  I  will  not  take  all  from  them.  Measure  it  off  into 
three  lots,  one  to  be  sold  for  charity,  one  for  us,  and  one  for  the  abbey."  So 
this,  too,  was  done  as  Robin  Hood  bade. 

"  Twoscore  of  great  wax  candles  for  the  Chapel  of  Saint  Thomas." 

"  That  belongeth  fairly  to  the  chapel,"  quoth  Robin,  "  so  lay  it  to  one  side. 
Far  be  it  from  us  to  take  from  the  blessed  Saint  Thomas  that  which  belongeth 
to  him."  So  this,  also,  was  done  according  to  Robin's  bidding,  and  the  candles 
were  laid  to  one  side,  along  with  honest  Quentin's  unopened  bales  of  silk.  So 
the  list  was  gone  through  with,  and  the  goods  adjudged  according  to  what 
Robin  thought  most  fit.  Some  things  were  laid  aside  untouched,  and  many 
were  opened  and  divided  into  three  equal  parts,  for  charity,  for  themselves,  and 
for  the  owners.  And  now  all  the  ground  in  the  torchlight  was  covered  over 


1 68  ROBIN  HOOD  AIDETH  A   SORROWFUL  KNIGHT. 

with  silks  and  velvets  and  cloths  of  gold  and  cases  of  rich  wines,  and  so  they 
came  to  the  last  line  upon  the  tablet,  — 

"A  box  belonging  to  the  Lord  Bishop  of  Hereford." 

At  these  words  the  Bishop  shook  as  with  a  chill,  and  the  box  was  set  upon 
the  ground. 

"  My  Lord  Bishop,  hast  thou  the  key  of  this  box  ?  "  asked  Robin. 

The  Bishop  shook  his  head. 

"  Go,  Will  Scarlet,"  said  Robin,  "thou  art  the  strongest  man  here  —  bring  a 
Will  Scarlet  sword  straightway,  and  cut  this  box  open,  if  thou  canst."  Then 
0£ishofs*/lstron<r  UP  rose  Wil1  Scarlet  and  left  them,  coming  back  in  a  short  time, 
box.  bearing  a  great  two-handed  sword.  Thrice  he  smote  that  strong, 

iron-bound  box,  and  at  the  third  blow  it  burst  open  and  a  great  heap  of  gold 
came  rolling  forth,  gleaming  red  in  the  light  of  the  torches.  At  this  sight  a 
murmur  went  all  around  among  the  band,  like  the  sound  of  the  wind  in  distant 
trees  ;  but  no  man  came  forward  nor  touched  the  money. 

Quoth  Robin,  "Thou,  Will  Scarlet,  thou,  Allan  a  Dale,  and  thou,  Little 
John,  count  it  over." 

A  long  time  it  took  to  count  all  the  money,  and  when  it  had  been  duly  scored 
up,  Will  Scarlet  called  out  that  there  were  fifteen  hundred  golden  pounds  in 
all.  But  in  among  the  gold  they  found  a  paper,  and  this  Will  Scarlet  read  in  a 
loud  voice,  and  all  heard  that  this  money  was  the  rental  and  fines  and  forfeits 
from  certain  estates  belonging  to  the  Bishopric  of  Hereford. 

"My  Lord  Bishop,"  said  Robin  Hood,  "I  will  not  strip  thee,  as  Little  John 
Robin  Hood  di-  said,  like  a  winter  hedge,  for  thou  shalt  take  back  one  third  of  thy 
vides  the  money.  money.  One  third  of  it  thou  canst  well  spare  to  us  for  thy  enter 
tainment  and  that  of  thy  train,  for  thou  art  very  rich ;  one  third  of  it  thou  canst 
better  spare  for  charity,  for  Bishop,  I  hear  that  thou  art  a  hard  master  to  those 
beneath  thee  and  a  close  hoarder  of  gains  that  thou  couldst  better  and  with 
more  credit  to  thyself  give  to  charity  than  spend  upon  thy  own  likings." 

At  this  the  Bishop  looked  up,  but  he  could  say  never  a  word ;  yet  he  was 
thankful  to  keep  some  of  his  wealth. 

Then  Robin  turned  to  Sir  Richard  of  the  Lea,  and  quoth  he,  "  Now,  Sir  Rich- 
Kobin  Hood  of-  ard,  the  church  seemed  like  to  despoil  thee,  therefore  some  of  the 
Richard  *<>/  StL  overplus  ot  church  gains  may  well  be  used  in  aiding  thee.  Thou 
Lea.  shalt  take  that  five  hundred  pounds  laid  aside  for  people  more  in 

need  than  the  Bishop  is,  and  shalt  pay  thy  debts  to  Emmet  therewith." 

Sir  Richard  looked  at  Robin  until  something  arose  in  his  eyes  that  made 
all  the  lights  and  the  faces  blur  together.  At  last  he  said,  "  I  thank  thee, 
friend,  from  my  heart,  for  what  thou  doest  for  me  ;  yet,  think  not  ill  if  I  cannot 
take  thy  gift  freely.  But  this  I  will  do :  I  will  take  the  money  and  pay  my 


ROBIN  HOOD  AIDETH  A   SORROWFUL  KNIGHT.  169 

debts,  and  in  a  year  and  a  day  hence  will  return  it  safe  either  to  thee  or  to  the 
Lord  Bishop  of  Hereford.  For  this  I  pledge  my  most  solemn  knightly  word. 
I  feel  free  to  borrow,  for  I  know  no  man  that  should  be  more  bound  to  aid  me 
than  one  so  high  in  that  church  that  hath  driven  such  a  hard  bargain  with 
me." 

"  Truly,  Sir  Knight,"  quoth  Robin,  "  I  do  not  understand  those  fine  scruples 
that  weigh  with  those  of  thy  kind ;  but,  nevertheless,  it  shall  all  be  as  thou  dost 
wish.  But  thou  hadst  best  bring  the  money  to  me  at  the  end  of  the  year,  for 
mayhap  I  may  make  better  use  of  it  than  the  Bishop."  Thereupon,  turning  to 
those  near  him,  he  gave  his  orders,  and  five  hundred  pounds  were  counted  out 
and  tied  up  in  a  leathern  bag  for  Sir  Richard.  The  rest  of  the  treasure  was 
divided,  and  part  taken  to  the  treasure-house  of  the  band,  and  part  put  by  with 
the  other  things  for  the  Bishop. 

Then  Sir  Richard  arose.  "  I  cannot  stay  later,  good  friends,"  said  he,  "  for 
my  lady  will  wax  anxious  if  I  come  not  home  ;  so  I  crave  leave  to  depart." 

Then  Robin  Hood  and  all  his  merry  men  arose,  and  Robin  said,  "  We  cannot 
let  thee  go  hence  unattended,  Sir  Richard." 

Then  up  spake  Little  John :  "  Good  master,  let  me  choose  a  score  of  stout 
fellows  from  the  band,  and  let  us  arm  ourselves  in  a  seemly  man-  Little  John  of- 
ner,  and  so  serve  as  retainers  to  Sir  Richard  till  he  can  get  oth-  fland /s°auend- 
ers  in  our  stead."  ants  nP°n  Sir 

"Thou  hast  spoken  well,  Little  John,  and  it  shall  be  done,"    IM. 
said  Robin. 

Then  up  spake  Will  Scarlet :  "  Let  us  give  him  a  golden  chain  to  hang  about 
his  neck,  such  as  befits  one  of  his  blood,  and  also  golden  spurs  mil  Scariet 

tO  wear  at  his  heels."  beggeth  a  chain 

Then  Robin  Hood  said,  "  Thou  hast  spoken  well,  Will  Scarlet,    #£%  if  gold 
and  it  shall  be  done."  for  tlu  ******' 

Then  up  spake  Will  Stutely  :  "  Let  us  give  him  yon  bale  of  rich  velvet  and 
yon  roll  of  cloth  of  gold  to  take  home  to  his  noble  lady  wife  as    Will  Stutely 
a  present  from  Robin  Hood  and  his  merry  men  all."  proposeth  that 

At  this  all  clapped  their  hands  for  joy,  and  Robin  said  :  "Thou  goods  as  a  prls- 
hast  well  spoken,  Will  Stutely,  and  it  shall  be  done."  ent  to  Lady  Lea- 

Then  Sir  Richard  o'  the  Lea  looked  all  around  and  strove  to  speak,  but 
could  scarcely  do  so  for  the  feelings  that  choked  him  ;  at  last  he  said  in  a 
husky,  trembling  voice,  "  Ye  shall  all  see,  good  friends,  that  Sir  Richard  o'  the 
Lea  will  ever  remember  your  kindness  this  day.  And  if  ye  be  at  any  time 
in  dire  need  or  trouble,  come  to  me  and  my  lady,  and  the  walls  of  Castle  Lea 
shall  be  battered  down  ere  harm  shall  befall  you.  I "  —  He  could  say  nothing 
further,  but  turned  hastily  away. 


1 70  ROBIN  HOOD  AIDETH  A   SORROWFUL  KNIGHT. 

But  now  Little  John  and  nineteen  stout  fellows,  whom  he  had  chosen  for  his 
band,  came  forth  all  ready  for  the  journey.  Each  man  wore  upon  his  breast  a 
coat  of  linked  mail,  and  on  his  head  a  cap  of  steel,  and  at  his  side  a  good  stout 
sword.  A  gallant  show  they  made  as  they  stood  all  in  a  row.  Then  Robin 
came  and  threw  a  chain  of  gold  about  Sir  Richard's  neck,  and  Will  Scarlet 
knelt  and  buckled  the  golden  spurs  upon  his  heel  ;  and  now  Little  John  led 
Sir  Richard  forward  Sir  Richard's  horse,  and  the  Knight  mounted.  He  looked 
taketh  leave  of  down  at  Robin  for  a  little  time,  then  of  a  sudden  stooped  and 
kissed  his  cheek.  All  the  forest  glades  rang  with  the  shout  that 
went  up  as  the  Knight  and  the  yeomen  marched  off  through  the  woodland  with 
glare  of  torches  and  gleam  of  steel,  and  so  were  gone. 

Then  up  spake  the  Bishop  of  Hereford  in  a  mournful  voice :  "I,  too,  must  be 
jogging,  good  fellow,  for  the  night  waxes  late." 

But  Robin  laid  his  hand  upon  the  Bishop's  arm  and  stayed  him.  "  Be  not 
so  hasty,  Lord  Bishop,"  said  he.  "  Three  days  hence  Sir  Richard 

Robin  Hood  con-  ••       «  i  T-.  • 

strains  the  Bish-  must  pay  his  debts  to  Emmet ;  until  that  time  thou  must  be 
°ab^eHwUh0him  content  to  abide  with  m«  lest  thou  breed  trouble  for  the  Knight. 
in  the  green-  I  promise  thee  that  thou  shalt  have  great  sport,  for  I  know  that 
thou  art  fond  of  hunting  the  dun  deer.  Lay  by  thy  mantle  of 
melancholy,  and  strive  to  lead  a  joyous  yeoman  life  for  three  stout  days.  I 
promise  thee  thou  shalt  be  sorry  to  go  when  the  time  has  come." 

So  the  Bishop  and  his  train  abided  with  Robin  for  three  days,  and  much  sport 
his  lordship  had  in  that  time,  so  that,  as  Robin  had  said,  when  the  time  had 
come  for  him  to  go  he  was  sorry  to  leave  the  greenwood.  At  the  end  of  three 
days  Robin  set  him  free,  and  sent  him  forth  from  the  forest  with  a  guard 
of  yeomen  to  keep  freebooters  from  taking  what  was  left  of  the  packs  and 
bundles. 

But,  as  the  Bishop  rode  away,  he  vowed  within  himself  that  he  would  some 
time  make  Robin  rue  the  day  that  he  stopped  him  in  Sherwood. 

But  now  we  shall  follow  Sir  Richard  ;  so  listen,  and  you  shall  hear  what 
befell  him,  and  how  he  paid  his  debts  at  Emmet  Priory,  and  likewise  in  due 
season  to  Robin  Hood. 


II. 

How  Sir  Richard  of  the  Lea  paid  his  Debts 

to  Emmet. 

THE  long  highway  stretched  straight  on,  gray  and  dusty  in  the  sun.     On 
either  side  were  dykes  full  of  water  bordered  by  osiers,  and  far  away  in 
the  distance  stood  the  towers  of  Emmet  Priory  with  tall  poplar  trees 
around. 

Along  the  causeway  rode  a  knight  with  a  score  of  stout  men-at-arms  behind 
him.     The  Knight  was  clad  in  a  plain  long  robe  of  gray  serge,    sir  Richard  of 
gathered  in  at  the  waist  with  a  broad  leathern  belt,  from  which    ^idi^gtl0 Emmet 
hung  a  long  dagger  and  a  stout  sword.     But  though  he  was  so    Priory. 
plainly  dressed  himself,  the  horse  he  rode  was  a  noble  barb,  and  its  trappings 
were  rich  with  silk  and  silver  bells. 

So  thus  the  band  journeyed  along  the  causeway  between  the  dykes,  till  at 
last  they  reached  the  great  gate  of  Emmet  Priory.  There  the  Knight  called  to 
one  of  his  men  and  bade  him  knock  at  the  porter's  lodge  with  the  haft  of  his 
sword. 

The  porter  was  drowsing  on  his  bench  within  the  lodge,  but  at  the  knock  he 
roused  himself  and,  opening  the  wicket,  came  hobbling  forth  and  greeted  the 
Knight,  whilst  a  tame  starling  that  hung  in  a  wicker  cage  within  piped  out, 
"  In  ccelo  quies  !  In  ccelo  quies  !  "  such  being  the  words  that  the  poor  old  lame 
porter  had  taught  him  to  speak. 

"  Where  is  thy  prior  ? "  asked  the  Knight  of  the  old  porter. 

"  He  is  at  meat,  good  knight,  and  he  looketh  for  thy  coming,"  quoth  the 
porter,  "for,  if  I  mistake  not,  thou  art  Sir  Richard  o'  the  Lea." 

"  I  am  Sir  Richard  of  the  Lea  ;  then  I  will  go  seek  him  forthwith,"  said  the 
Knight. 

"  But  shall  I  not  send  thy  horse  to  stable  ?"  said  the  porter.  "By  Our  Lady, 
it  is  the  noblest  nag,  and  the  best  harnessed,  that  e'er  I  saw  in  all  my  life 
before."  And  he  stroked  the  horse's  flank  with  his  palm. 

"Nay,"  quoth  Sir  Richard,  "the  stables  of  this  place  are  not  for  me,  so 
make  way,  I  prythee."  So  saying  he  pushed  forward,  and,  the  gates  being 


1/2          HOW  SIR  RICHARD  OF  THE  LEA  PAID  HIS  DEBTS. 

opened,  he  entered  the  stony  courtyard  of  the  Priory,  his  men  behind  him. 
In  they  came  with  rattle  of  steel  and  clashing  of  swords,  and  ring  of  horses' 
feet  on  cobble-stones,  whereat  a  flock  of  pigeons  that  strutted  in  the  sun  flew 
with  flapping  wings  to  the  high  eaves  of  the  round  towers. 

Whilst  the  Knight  was  riding  along  the  causeway  to  Emmet,  a  merry  feast 
was  toward  in  the  refectory  there.  The  afternoon  sun  streamed  in  through  the 
great  arched  windows,  and  lay  in  broad  squares  of  light  upon  the  stone  floor 
and  across  the  board  covered  with  a  snowy  linen  cloth,  whereon  was  spread  a 
princely  feast.  At  the  head  of  the  table  sat  Prior  Vincent  of 
entertai™  the  Emmet  all  clad  in  soft  robes  of  fine  cloth  and  silk  ;  on  his  head 


Sheriff  of  Not-      wag  a  kjack  velvet  cap  picked  out  with  gold,  and  around  his  neck 

tingnam  and  tne 

man  of  law  at  hung  a  heavy  chain  of  gold,  with  a  great  locket  pendant  there 
from.  Beside  him,  on  the  arm  of  his  great  chair,  roosted  his 
favorite  falcon,  for  the  Prior  was  fond  of  the  gentle  craft  of  hawking.  On  his 
right  hand  sat  the  Sheriff  of  Nottingham  in  rich  robes  of  purple  all  trimmed 
about  with  fur,  and  on  his  left  a  famous  doctor  of  law  in  dark  and  sober  garb. 
Below  these  sat  the  high  cellarer  of  Emmet,  and  others  chief  among  the 
brethren. 

Jest  and  laughter  passed  around,  and  all  was  as  merry  as  merry  could  be. 
The  weazened  face  of  the  man  of  law  was  twisted  into  a  wrinkled  smile,  for  in 
his  pouch  were  fourscore  golden  angels  that  the  Prior  had  paid  him  in  fee  for 
the  case  betwixt  him  and  Sir  Richard  of  the  Lea.  The  learned  doctor  had 
been  paid  beforehand,  for  he  had  not  overmuch  trust  in  the  holy  Vincent  of 
Emmet. 

Quoth  the  Sheriff  of  Nottingham,  "  But  art  thou  sure,  Sir  Prior,  that  thou 
hast  the  lands  so  safe  ?  " 

"Ay,  marry,"  said  Prior  Vincent,  smacking  his  lips  after  a  deep  draught  of 
wine  ;  "  I  have  kept  a  close  watch  upon  him,  albeit  he  was  unawares  of  the 
same,  and  I  know  right  well  that  he  hath  no  money  to  pay  me  withal." 

"  Ay,  true,"  said  the  man  of  law  in  a  dry,  husky  voice,  "  his  land  is  surely 
forfeit  if  he  cometh  not  to  pay  ;  but,  Sir  Prior,  thou  must  get  a  release  beneath 
his  sign  manual,  or  else  thou  canst  not  hope  to  hold  the  land  without  trouble 
from  him." 

"  Yea,"  said  the  Prior,  "  so  thou  hast  told  me  ere  now,  but  I  know  that  this 
knight  is  so  poor  that  he  will  gladly  sign  away  his  lands  for  two  hundred  pounds 
of  hard  money." 

Then  up  spake  the  high  cellarer  :  "  Methinks  it  is  a  shame  to  so  drive  a 
misfortunate  knight  to  the  ditch.  I  think  it  sorrow  that  the  noblest  estate  in 
Derbyshire  should  so  pass  away  from  him  for  a  paltry  five  hundred  pounds. 
Truly,  I"  — 


HOW  SIR  RICHARD  OF  THE  LEA  PAID  HIS  DEBTS.          173 

"  How  now,"  broke  in  the  Prior,  in  a  quivering  voice,  his  eyes  glistening  and 
"his  cheeks  red  with  anger,  "  dost  thou  prate  to  my  very  beard,  sirrah  ?  By 
Saint  Hubert,  thou  hadst  best  save  thy  breath  to  cool  thy  pottage,  else  it  may 
scald  thy  mouth." 

"  Nay,"  said  the  man  of  law,  smoothly,  "  I  dare  swear  this  same  knight  will 
never  come  to  settlement  this  day,  but  will  prove  recreant.  Nevertheless,  we 
will  seek  some  means  to  gain  his  lands  from  him,  so  never  fear." 

But  even  as  the  doctor  spoke  there  came  a  sudden  clatter  of  horses'  hoofs 
and  a  jingle  of  iron  mail  in  the  courtyard  below.  Then  up  spake  the  Prior,  and 
called  upon  one  of  the  brethren  that  sat  below  the  salt,  and  bade  him  look  out 
of  the  window  and  see  who  was  below,  albeit  he  knew  right  well  it  could  be 
none  but  Sir  Richard. 

So  the  brother  arose  and  went  and  looked,  and  he  said,  "  I  see  below  a  score 
of  stout  men-at-arms  and  a  knight  just  dismounting  from  his  horse.  He  is 
dressed  in  long  robes  of  gray  which,  methinks,  are  of  poor  seeming  ;  but  the 
horse  he  rideth  upon  hath  the  richest  coursing  that  ever  I  saw.  The  Knight 
dismounts  and  they  come  this  way,  and  are  even  now  below  in  the  great  hall." 

"  Lo,  see  ye  there  now,"  quoth  Prior  Vincent.  "  Here  ye  have  a  knight  with 
so  lean  a  purse  as  scarce  to  buy  him  a  crust  of  bread  to  munch,  yet  he  keeps  a 
band  of  retainers,  and  puts  rich  trappings  upon  his  horse's  hide,  whilst  his  own 
back  goeth  bare.  Is  it  not  well  that  such  men  should  be  brought  low  ? " 

"But  art  thou  sure,"  said  the  little  doctor,  tremulously,  "that  this  knight  will 
do  us  no  harm  ?  Such  as  he  are  fierce  when  crossed,  and  he  hath  a  band  of 
naughty  men  at  his  heels.  Mayhap  thou  hadst  better  give  an  extension  of  his 
debt."  Thus  he  spake,  for  he  was  afraid  Sir  Richard  might  do  him  a  harm. 

"  Thou  needst  not  fear,"  said  the  Prior,  looking  down  at  the  little  man  beside 
him.  "This  knight  is  gentle,  and  would  as  soon  think  of  harming  an  old 
woman  as  thee." 

As  the  Prior  finished,  a  door  at  the  lower  end  of  the  refectory  swung  open, 
and  in  came  Sir  Richard,  with  folded  hands  and  head  bowed  upon  his  breast. 
Thus  humbly  he  walked  slowly  up  the  hall,  whilst  his  men-at-  Sir  Richard  Of 
arms  stood  about  the  door.  When  he  had  come  to  where  the  the  Lea  begs 

T-i-111  i  r*  f^-       mercy   of  the 

Prior  sat,  he  knelt  upon  one  knee.     "Save  and  keep  thee,  Sir   Prior  of  Em- 
Prior,"  said  he  ;  "I  am  come  to  keep  my  day." 

Then  the  first  word  that  the  Prior  said  to  him  was,  "  Hast  thou  brought  my 
money  ? " 

"Alas!  I  have  not  so  much  as  one  penny  upon  my  body,"  said  the  Knight; 
whereat  the  Prior's  eyes  sparkled. 

"  Now,  thou  art  a  shrewd  debtor,  I  wot,"  said  he.  Then,  "  Sir  Sheriff,  I 
drink  to  thee." 


1/4          HOW  SIR  RICHARD  OF  THE  LEA  PAID  HIS  DEBTS. 

But  still  the  Knight  kneeled  upon  the  hard  stones,  so  the  Prior  turned  to 
him  again.  "What  wouldst  thou  have  ?"  quoth  he,  sharply. 

At  these  words,  a  slow  red  mounted  into  the  Knight's  cheeks  ;  but  still  he 
knelt.  "I  would  crave  thy  mercy,"  said  he.  "As  thou  hopest  for  Heaven's 
mercy,  show  mercy  to  me.  Strip  me  not  of  my  lands,  and  so  reduce  a  true 
knight  to  poverty." 

"  Thy  day  is  broken  and  thy  lands  forfeit,"  said  the  man  of  law,  plucking  up 
his  spirits  at  the  Knight's  humble  speech. 

Quoth  Sir  Richard,  "  Thou  man  of  law,  wilt  thou  not  befriend  me  in  mine 
hour  of  need  ?  " 

"  Nay,"  said  the  other,  "  I  hold  with  this  holy  Prior,  who  hath  paid  me  my 
fees  in  hard  gold,  so  that  I  am  bounden  to  him." 

"  Wilt  thou  not  be  my  friend,  Sir  Sheriff  ? "  said  Sir  Richard. 

"  Nay,  'fore  Heaven,"  quoth  the  Sheriff  of  Nottingham,  "  this  is  no  business 
of  mine,  yet  I  will  do  what  I  may,"  and  he  nudged  the  Prior  beneath  the  cloth 
with  his  knee.  "  Wilt  thou  not  ease  him  of  some  of  his  debts,  Sir  Prior  ?  " 

At  this  the  Prior  smiled  grimly.  "  Pay  me  three  hundred  pounds,  Sir  Rich 
ard,"  said  he,  "  and  I  will  give  thee  quittance  of  thy  debt." 

"  Thou  knowest,  Sir  Prior,  that  it  is  as  easy  for  me  to  pay  four  hundred 
pounds  as  three  hundred,"  said  Sir  Richard.  "  But  wilt  thou  not  give  me  an 
other  twelvemonth  to  pay  my  debt  ? " 

"  Not  another  day,"  said  the  Prior,  sternly. 

"  And  is  this  all  thou  wilt  do  for  me  ?  "  asked  the  Knight. 

"Now,  out  upon  thee,  false  Knight!"  cried  the  Prior,  bursting  forth  in  anger. 
"  Either  pay  thy  debt  as  I  have  said  or  release  thy  land,  and  get  thee  gone  from 
out  my  hall." 

Then  Sir  Richard  arose  to  his  feet.  "  Thou  false,  lying  priest ! "  said  he,  in 
so  stern  a  voice  that  the  man  of  law  shrunk  affrighted,  "  I  am  no  false  knight, 
as  thou  knowest  full  well,  but  have  ever  held  my  place  in  the  press  and  the 
tourney.  Hast  thou  so  little  courtesy  that  thou  wouldst  see  a  true  knight  kneel 
for  all  this  time,  or  see  him  come  into  thy  hall  and  never  offer  him  meat  or 
drink  ? " 

Then  quoth  the  man  of  law,  in  a  trembling  voice,  "  This  is  surely  an  ill  way 
to  talk  of  matters  appertaining  to  business ;  let  us  be  mild  in  speech.  What 
wilt  thou  pay  this  knight,  Sir  Prior,  to  give  thee  release  of  his  land  ?  " 

"  I  would  have  given  him  two  hundred  pounds,"  quoth  the  Prior,  "  but  since 
he  hath  spoken  so  vilely  to  my  teeth,  not  one  groat  over  one  hundred  pounds 
will  he  get." 

"  Hadst  thou  offered  me  a  thousand  pounds,  false  Prior,"  said  the  Knight, 
"  thou  wouldst  not  have  got  an  inch  of  my  land."  Then,  turning  to  where  his 


HO  W  SIR  RICHARD  OF  THE  LEA  PAID  HIS  DEBTS.  177 

men-at-arms  stood  near  the  door,  he  called,  "  Come  hither,"  and  beckoned  with 
his  ringer;  whereupon  the  tallest  of  them  all  came  forward  and  handed  him  a 
long  leathern  bag.     Sir  Richard  took  the  bag  and  shot  from  it    sir  Richard  of 
upon  the  table  a  glittering  stream  of  golden   money.     "Bear  in    the  Lea  payetk 

i     o  •      T>   •       »        •  i  i          <  .  i  i  i  his  debt,  to  the 

mind,  Sir  Prior,    said  he,  "  that  thou  hast  promised  me  quittance    prior' s  confu- 
for  three  hundred  pounds.      Not  one  farthing  above  that  shalt    "°"' 
thou  get."      So  saying,  he  counted  out  three  hundred  pounds  and  pushed  it 
toward  the  Prior. 

But  now  the  Prior's  hands  dropped  at  his  sides  and  the  Prior's  head  hung 
upon  his  shoulder,  for  not  only  had  he  lost  all  hopes  of  the  land,  but  he  had 
forgiven  the  Knight  one  hundred  pounds  of  his  debt  and  had  needlessly  paid 
the  man  of  law  fourscore  angels.  To  him  he  turned,  and  quoth  he,  "  Give  me 
back  my  money  that  thou  hast." 

"  Nay,"  cried  the  other,  shrilly,  "  it  is  but  my  fee  that  thou  didst  pay  me,  and 
thou  gettest  it  not  back  again."  And  he  hugged  his  gown  about  him. 

"  Now,  Sir  Prior,"  quoth  Sir  Richard,  "  I  have  held  my  day  and  paid  all  the 
dues  demanded  of  me  ;  so,  as  there  is  no  more  betwixt  us,  I  leave  this  vile 
place  straightway."  So  saying,  he  turned  upon  his  heel  and  strode  away. 

All  this  time  the  Sheriff  had  been  staring  with  wide-open  eyes  and  mouth 
agape  at  the  tall  man-at-arms,  who  stood  as  though  carved  out  of  The  yieria-  Of 
stone.  At  last  he  gasped  out,  "  Reynold  Greenleaf  !  "  Nottingham 

......  ,  i  i  T  •     i        meeteth  an  old 

At  this,  the  tall  man-at-arms,  who  was  no  other  than  Little  friend  and 
John,  turned,  grinning,  to  the  Sheriff.     "  I  give  thee  good  den,  fair   knmoeth  him- 
gossip,"  quoth  he.     "  I  would  say,   sweet   Sheriff,   that    I  have  heard  all  thy 
pretty  talk  this  day,  and  it  shall  be  duly  told  unto  Robin  Hood.     So,  farewell 
for  the  nonce,  till  we  meet  again  in  Sherwood  Forest."     Then  he,  also,  turned 
and   followed    Sir   Richard    down    the   hall,  leaving  the   Sheriff,  all  pale  and 
amazed,  shrunk  together  upon  his  chair. 

A  merry  feast  it  was  to  which  Sir  Richard  came,  but  a  sorry  lot  he  left  be 
hind  him,  and  little  hunger  had  they  for  the  princely  food  spread  before  them. 
Only  the  learned  doctor  was  happy,  for  he  had  his  fee. 


But  now  a  twelvemonth  and  a  day  has  passed  since  Prior  Vincent  of  Emmet 
sat  at  feast,  as  has  just  been  told,  and  once  more  the  mellow  fall  of  another 
year  has  come.  But  the  year  had  brought  great  change,  I  wot,  to  the  lands  of 
Sir  Richard  of  the  Lea  ;  for,  where  before  shaggy  wild  grasses  grew  upon  the 
meadow  lands,  now  all  stretch  away  in  golden  stubble,  betokening  that  a  rich 
and  plentiful  crop  had  been  gathered  therefrom.  A  year  had  made  a  great 
change  in  the  castle,  also,  for,  where  were  empty  moats  and  the  crumbling  of 
neglect,  all  was  now  orderly  and  well  kept. 


1/8          HOW  SIR  RICHARD  OF  THE  LEA  PAID  HIS  DEBTS. 

Bright  shone  the  sun  on  battlement  and  tower,  and  in  the  blue  air  overhead 
a  flock  of  clattering  jackdaws  flew  around  the  gilded  weathervane  and  spire. 
Then,  in  the  brightness  of  the  morning,  the  drawbridge  fell  across  the  moat 
with  a  rattle  and  clank  of  chains,  the  gate  of  the  castle  swung  slowly  open,  and 
sir  Richard  of  a  goodly  array  of  steel-clad  men-at-arms,  with  a  knight  all  clothed 
the  Lea  sets  jn  chain-mail,  as  white  as  frost  on  briar  and  thorn  of  a  winter 

forth  to  pay  his 

debt  to  Robin  morning,  came  flashing  out  from  the  castle  courtyard.  In  his  hand 
^n°ddaa/ayrhav-  tne  Knight  held  a  great  spear,  from  the  point  of  which  fluttered  a 
ing  passed.  blood-red  pennant  as  broad  as  the  palm  of  one's  hand.  So  this 
troop  came  forth  from  the  castle,  and  in  the  midst  of  them  walked  three  pack- 
horses  laden  with  parcels  of  divers  shapes  and  kinds. 

Thus  rode  forth  good  Sir  Richard  of  the  Lea  to  pay  his  debt  to  Robin  Hood 
this  bright  and  merry  morn.  Along  the  highway  they  wended  their  way,  with 
measured  tramp  of  feet  and  rattle  and  jingle  of  sword  and  harness.  Onward 
they  marched  till  they  came  nigh  to  Denby,  where,  from  the  top  of  a  hill,  they 
saw,  over  beyond  the  town,  many  gay  flags  and  streamers  floating  in  the  bright 
air.  Then  Sir  Richard  turned  to  the  man-at-arms  nearest  to  him.  "  What  is 
toward  yonder  at  Denby  to-day  ?  "  quoth  he. 

"Please  your  worship,"  answered  the  man-at-arms,  "a  merry  fair  is  held 
there  to-day,  and  a  great  wrestling-match,  to  which  many  folk  have  come,  for  a 
prize  hath  been  offered  of  a  pipe  of  red  wine,  a  fair  golden  ring,  and  a  pair  of 
gloves,  all  of  which  go  to  the  best  wrestler." 

"  Now,  by  my  faith,"  quoth  Sir  Richard,  who  loved  good  manly  sports  right 
Sir  Richard  well,  "  this  will  be  a  goodly  thing  to  see.  Methinks  we  have  time 
SK£pewyU%nthe  to  stay  a  little  while  on  our  journey,  and  see  this  merry  sport." 
fair  at  Denby.  So  he  turned  his  horse's  head  aside  toward  Denby  and  the  fair, 
and  thither  he  and  his  men  made  their  way. 

There  they  found  a  great  hubbub  of  merriment.  Flags  and  streamers  were 
floating,  tumblers  were  tumbling  on  the  green,  bag-pipes  were  playing,  and  lads 
and  lasses  were  dancing  to  the  music.  But  the  crowd  were  gathered  most  of 
all  around  a  ring  where  the  wrestling  was  going  forward,  and  thither  Sir  Rich 
ard  and  his  men  turned  their  steps. 

Now  when  the  judges  of  the  wrestling  saw  Sir  Richard  coming  and  knew 
who  he  was,  the  chief  of  them  came  down  from  the  bench  where  he  and  the 
others  sat,  and  went  to  the  Knight  and  took  him  by  the  hand,  beseeching  him 
to  come  and  sit  with  them  and  judge  the  sport.  So  Sir  Richard  got  down  from 
his  horse,  and  went  with  the  others  to  the  bench  raised  beside  the  ring. 

Now  there  had  been  great  doings  that  morning,  for  a  certain  yeoman  named 
Egbert,  who  came  from  Stoke  over  in  Staffordshire,  had  thrown  with  ease  all 
those  that  came  against  him  ;  but  a  man  of  Denby,  well  known  through  all  the 


HO  W  SIR  RICHARD  OF  THE  LEA  PAID  HIS  DEBTS.  179 

countryside  as  William  with  the  Scar,  had  been  biding  his  time  with  the  Stoke 
man  ;  so,  when  Egbert  had  thrown  every  one  else,  stout  William  William  of  the 
leaped  into  the  ring.  Then  a  tough  bout  followed,  and  at  last  he  Scar  thrmveth 

~    ,  ,          .,  .  Egbert  of  Stoke 

threw  Egbert  heavily,  whereat  there  was  a  great  shouting  and    in  the  wrestling 
shaking  of  hands,  for  all  the  Denby  men  were  proud  of  their    rmg' 
wrestler. 

When  Sir  Richard  came,  he  found  stout  William,  puffed  up  by  the  shouts  of 
his  friends,  walking  up  and  down  the  ring,  daring  any  one  to  come  and  try  a 
throw  with  him.  "Come  one,  come  all  !"  quoth  he.  "Here  stand  I,  William 
of  the  Scar,  against  any  man.  If  there  is  none  in  Derbyshire  to  come  against 
me,  come  all  who  will,  from  Nottingham,  Stafford,  or  York,  and  if  I  do  not 
make  them  one  and  all  root  the  ground  with  their  noses  like  swine  in  the  for 
ests,  call  me  no  more  brave  William  the  wrestler." 

At  this  all  laughed  ;  but  above  all  the  laughter  a  loud  voice  was  heard  to  cry 
out,  "  Sin'  thou  talkest  so  big,  here  cometh  one  from  Nottinghamshire  to  try  a 
fall  with  thee,  fellow  ;  "  and  straightway  a  tall  youth  with  a  tough    stout  ^imam's 
quarterstaff  in  his  hand  came  pushing  his  way  through  the  crowd,    challenge  is 
and  at  last  leaped  lightly  over  the  rope  into  the  ring.     He  was 
not  as  heavy  as  stout  William,  but  he  was  taller  and  broader  in  the  shoulders, 
and  all  his  joints  were  well  knit.     Sir  Richard  looked  upon  him  keenly,  then, 
turning  to  one  of  the  judges,  he  said,  "  Knowest  thou  who  this  youth  is  ?     Me- 
thinks  I  have  seen  him  before." 

"  Nay,"  said  the  judge,  "  he  is  a  stranger  to  me." 

Meantime,  without  a  word,  the  young  man,  laying  aside  his  quarterstaff, 
began  to  take  off  his  jerkin  and  body  clothing  until  he  presently  stood  with 
naked  arms  and  body  ;  and  a  comely  sight  he  was  when  so  bared  to  -the  view, 
for  his  muscles  were  cut  round  and  smooth  and  sharp  like  swift-running  water. 

And  now  each  man  spat  upon  his  hands,  and,  clapping  them  upon  his  knees, 
squatted  down,  watching  the  other  keenly,  so  as  to  take  the  vantage  of  him  in 
the  grip.  Then  like  a  flash  they  leaped  together,  and  a  great  shout  went  up, 
for  William  had  gotten  the  better  hold  of  the  two.  For  a  short  time  they 
strained  and  struggled  and  writhed,  and  then  stout  William  gave  his  most  cun 
ning  trip  and  throw,  but  the  stranger  met  it  with  greater  skill  than  his,  and  so 
the  trip  came  to  nought.  Then,  of  a  sudden,  with  a  twist  and  a  wrench,  the 
stranger  loosed  himself,  and  he  of  the  scar  found  himself  locked  stout 


in  a  pair  of  arms  that  fairly  made  his  ribs  crack.     So,  with  heavy,    meeteth  his 
hot  breathing,  they  stood  for  a  while  straining,  their  bodies  all    stranger  throw- 
glistening  with  sweat,  and  great  drops  of  sweat  trickling  down    eth  htm" 
their  faces.      But    the    stranger's  hug  was   so  close   that   at   last   stout  Wil 
liam's  muscles  softened  under  his  grip,  and  he  gave  a  sob.     Then  the  youth 


i8o          HOW  SIR  RICHARD  OF  THE  LEA  PAID  HIS  DEBTS. 

put  forth  all  his  strength,  and  gave  a  sudden  trip  with  his  heel,  and  a  cast 
over  his  right  hip,  and  down  stout  William  went,  with  a  sickening  thud,  and 
lay  as  though  he  would  never  move  hand  nor  foot  again. 

But  now  no  shout  went  up  for  the  stranger,  but  an  angry  murmur  was  heard 
among  the  crowd,  so  easily  had  he  won  the  match.  Then  one  of  the  judges, 
who  was  a  kinsman  to  William  of  the  Scar,  rose  with  trembling  lip  and  baleful 
look.  Quoth  he,  "  If  thou  hast  slain  that  man  it  will  go  ill  with  thee,  let  me 
tell  thee,  fellow." 

But  the  stranger  answered  boldly,  "  He  took  his  chance  with  me  as  I  took 
mine  with  him.  No  law  can  touch  me  to  harm  me,  even  if  I  slew  him,  so  that 
it  was  fairly  done  in  the  wrestling  ring." 

"  That  we  shall  see,"  said  the  judge,  scowling  upon  the  youth,  whilst  once 
more  an  angry  murmur  ran  around  the  crowd  ;  for,  as  I  have  said,  the  men  of 
Denby  were  proud  of  stout  William  of  the  Scar. 

Then  up  spoke  Sir  Richard,  gently.  "  Nay,  said  he,  "  the  youth  is  right ; 
if  the  other  dieth,  he  dieth  in  the  wrestling  ring,  where  he  took  his  chance,  and 
was  cast  fairly  enow." 

But  in  the  mean  time  three  men  had  come  forward  and  lifted  stout  William 
from  the  ground,  and  found  that  he  was  not  dead,  though  badly  shaken  by  his 
heavy  fall.  Then  the  chief  judge  rose  and  said,  "  Young  man,  the  prize  is  duly 
thine.  Here  is  the  red  gold  ring,  and  here  the  gloves,  and  yonder  stands  the 
pipe  of  wine  to  do  with  whatsoever  thou  dost  list." 

At  this  the  youth,  who  had  donned  his  clothes  and  taken  up  his  staff  again, 
bowed,  without  a  word,  then,  taking  the  gloves  and  the  ring,  and  thrusting  the 
one  into  his  girdle  and  slipping  the  other  upon  his  thumb,  he  turned  and,  leaping 
lightly  over  the  ropes  again,  made  his  way  through  the  crowd,  and  was  gone. 

"  Now,  I  wonder  who  yon  youth  may  be,"  said  the  judge,  turning  to  Sir 
Richard  ;  "  he  seemeth  like  a  stout  Saxon  from  his  red  cheeks  and  fair  hair. 
This  William  of  ours  is  a  stout  man,  too,  and  never  have  I  seen  him  cast  in  the 
ring  before,  albeit  he  hath  not  yet  striven  with  such  great  wrestlers  as  Thomas 
of  Cornwall,  Diccon  of  York,  and  young  David  of  Doncaster.  Hath  he  not  a 
firm  foot  in  the  ring,  thinkest  thou,  Sir  Richard  ?" 

"  Ay,  truly  ;  and  yet  this  youth  threw  him  fairly,  and  with  wondrous  ease. 
I  much  wonder  who  he  can  be."  Thus  said  Sir  Richard  in  a  thoughtful  voice. 

For  a  time  the  Knight  stood  talking  to  those  about  him,  but  at  last  he  arose 
and  made  ready  to  depart,  so  he  called  his  men  about  him,  and  tightening  the 
girths  of  his  saddle,  he  mounted  his  horse  once  more. 

Meanwhile  the  young  stranger  had  made  his  way  through  the  crowd,  but,  as 
he  passed,  he  heard  all  around  him  such  words  muttered  as,  "Look  at  the  cock- 
eril !  "  "  Behold  how  he  plumeth  himself  !  "  "I  dare  swear  he  cast  good  Wil- 


HOW  SIR  RICHARD  OF  THE  LEA  PAID  HIS  DEBTS.  181 

liam  unfairly  ! "  "  Yea,  truly,  saw  ye  not  bird-lime  upon  his  hands  ? "  "  It  would 
be  well  to  cut  his  cock's  comb!"  To  all  this  the  stranger  paid  The  men  of 
no  heed,  but  strode  proudly  about  as  though  he  heard  it  not.  So 
he  walked  slowly  across  the  green  to  where  the  booth  stood  wherein 
was  dancing,  and  standing  at  the  door  he  looked  in  on  the  sport.  As  he  stood 
thus  a  stone  struck  his  arm  of  a  sudden  with  a  sharp  jar,  and,  turning,  he  saw 
that  an  angry  crowd  of  men  had  followed  him  from  the  wrestling  ring.  Then, 
when  they  saw  him  turn  so,  a  great  hooting  and  yelling  arose  from  all,  so  that 
the  folk  came  running  out  from  the  dancing  booth  to  see  what  was  to  do.  At 
last  a  tall,  broad-shouldered,  burly  blacksmith  strode  forward  from  the  crowd 
swinging  a  mighty  blackthorn  club  in  his  hand. 

"  Wouldst  thou  come  here  to  our  fair  town  of  Denby,  thou  Jack  in  the  Box, 
to  overcome  a  good  honest  lad  with  vile,  juggling  tricks  ?"  growled 
he  in  a  deep  voice  like  the  bellow  of  an  angry  bull.     "  Take  that,    Denby  fails  upon 
then ! "     And  of  a  sudden  he  struck  a  blow  at  the  youth  that    th^  ^ranger,  but 

*  getteth  more 

might  have  felled  an  ox.     But  the  other  turned  the  blow  deftly    than  he  bar- 
aside,  and  gave  back  another  so  terrible  that  the  Denby  man  went  §ai1 
down  with  a  groan,  as  though  he  had  been  smitten  by  lightning.     When  they 
saw  their  leader  fall  the  crowd  gave  another  angry  shout;  but  the  stranger 
placed  his  back  against  the  tent  near  which  he  stood,  swinging  his  terrible  staff, 
and  so  fell  had  been  the  blow  that  he  struck  the  stout  smith,  that  none  dared  to 
come  within  the  measure  of  his  cudgel,  so  the  press  crowded  back,  like  a  pack 
of  dogs  from  a  bear  at  bay.     But  now  some  coward  hand  from  behind  threw 
a  sharp  jagged  stone   that    smote   the    stranger  on    the  crown,    The  crowd  over- 
so  that  he  staggered  back,  and  the  red  blood  gushed  from  the  cut   come  the  young 
and  ran  down  his  face  and  over  his  jerkin.     Then,  seeing  him 
dazed  with  this  vile  blow,  the  crowd  rushed  upon  him,  so  that  they  overbore 
him  and  he  fell  beneath  their  feet. 

Now  it  might  have  gone  ill  with  the  youth,  even  to  the  losing  of  his  young 
life,  had  not  Sir  Richard  come  to  this  fair ;  for  of  a  sudden  shouts  were  heard, 
and  steel  flashed  in  the  air,  and  blows  were  given  with  the  flat  of  swords,  whilst 
through  the  midst  of  the  crowd  Sir  Richard  of  the  Lea  came 

,  .         ,  .        ,  /-~,  i  •  i  t      Sir  Richard  of 

spurring  on  his  white  horse.     Then  the  crowd,  seeing  the  steel-    the  Lea  cometk 
clad  knight  and  the  armed  men,  melted  away  like  snow  on  the    ^^tran'er'and 
warm  hearth,  leaving  the  young  man  all  bloody  and  dusty  upon  findeth  an  old 
the  ground. 

Finding  himself  free,  the  youth  arose,  and,  wiping  the  blood  from  his  face, 
looked  up.  Quoth  he,  "  Sir  Richard  of  the  Lea,  mayhap  thou  hast  saved  my 
life  this  day." 

"  Who  art  thou  that  knowest  Sir  Richard  of  the  Lea  so  well  ? "  quoth  the 
Knight.  "  Methinks  I  have  seen  thy  face  before,  young  man." 


1 82          HOW  SIR  RICHARD  OF  THE  LEA  PAID  HIS  DEBTS. 

"  Yea,  thou  hast,"  said  the  youth,  "for  men  call  me  David  of  Doncaster." 

"  Ha ! "  said  Sir  Richard  ;  "  I  wonder  that  I  knew  thee  not,  David  ;  but  thy 
beard  hath  grown  longer,  and  thou  thyself  art  more  set  in  manhood  since  this 
day  twelvemonth.  Come  hither  into  the  tent,  David,  and  wash  the  blood  from 
thy  face.  And  thou,  Ralph,  bring  him  straightway  a  clean  jerkin.  Now  I  am 
sorry  for  thee,  yet  I  am  right  glad  that  I  have  had  a  chance  to  pay  a  part  of 
my  debt  of  kindness  to  thy  good  master,  Robin  Hood,  for  it  might  have  gone  ill 
with  thee  had  I  not  come,  young  man." 

So  saying,  the  Knight  led  David  into  the  tent,  and  there  the  youth  washed 
the  blood  from  his  face  and  put  on  the  clean  jerkin. 

In  the  mean  time  a  whisper  had  gone  around  from  those  that  stood  nearest 
that  this  was  none  other  than  the  great  David  of  Doncaster,  the  best  wrestler 
in  all  the  midcountry,  who  only  last  spring  had  cast  stout  Adam  o'  Lincoln  in 
the  ring  at  Selby,  in  Yorkshire,  and  now  held  the  midcountry  champion  belt. 
Thus  it  happened  that  when  young  David  came  forth  from  the  tent  along  with 
Sir  Richard,  the  blood  all  washed  from  his  face,  and  his  soiled  jerkin  changed 
for  a  clean  one,  no  sounds  of  anger  were  heard,  but  all  pressed  forward  to  see 
the  young  man,  feeling  proud  that  one  of  the  great  wrestlers  of  England  should 
have  entered  the  ring  at  Denby  fair.  For  thus  fickle  is  a  mass  of  men. 

Then  Sir  Richard  called  aloud,  "  Friends,  this  is  David  of  Doncaster ;  so 
think  it  no  shame  that  your  Denby  man  was  cast  by  such  a  wrestler.  He 
beareth  you  no  ill-will  for  what  hath  passed,  but  let  it  be  a  warning  to  you 
how  ye  treat  strangers  henceforth.  Had  ye  slain  him  it  would  have  been  an  ill 
day  for  you,  for  Robin  Hood  would  have  harried  your  town  as  the  kestrel  har 
ries  the  dove-cote.  I  have  bought  the  pipe  of  wine  from  him,  and  now  I  give 
it  freely  to  you  to  drink  as  ye  list.  But  never  hereafterwards  fall  upon  a  man 
for  being  a  stout  yeoman." 

At  this  all  shouted  amain  ;  but  in  truth  they  thought  more  of  the  wine  than 
of  the  Knight's  words.  Then  Sir  Richard,  with  David  beside  him  and  his  men- 
at-arms  around,  turned  about  and  left  the  fair. 

But  in  after  days,  when  the  men  that  saw  that  wrestling  bout  were  bent  with 
age,  they  would  shake  their  heads  when  they  heard  of  any  stalwart  game,  and 
say,  "  Ay,  ay  ;  but  thou  shouldst  have  seen  the  great  David  of  Doncaster  cast 
stout  William  with  the  Scar  at  Denby  fair." 

Robin  Hood  stood  in  the  merry  greenwood  with  Little  John  and  most  of  his 
sir  Richard  stout  yeomen  around  him,  awaiting  Sir  Richard's  coming.  At 
cometh  to  keep  last  a  glint  of  steel  was  seen  through  the  brown  forest  leaves,  and 
forth  from  the  covert  into  the  open  rode  Sir  Richard  at  the  head 
of  his  men.  He  came  straight  forward  to  Robin  Hood,  and  leaping  from  off 
his  horse  clasped  the  yeoman  in  his  arms. 


HOW  SIR  RICHARD  OF  THE  LEA  PAID  HIS  DEBTS.          183 

"  Why,  how  now,"  said  Robin,  after  a  time,  holding  Sir  Richard  off  and  look 
ing  at  him  from  top  to  toe  ;  methinks  thou  art  a  gayer  bird  than  when  I  saw 
thee  last." 

"  Yes,  thanks  to  thee,  Robin,"  said  the  Knight,  laying  his  hand  upon  the 
yeoman's  shoulder.  "  But  for  thee  I  would  have  been  wandering  in  misery  in 
a  far  country  by  this  time.  But  I  have  kept  my  word,  Robin,  and  have  brought 
back  the  money  that  thou  didst  lend  me,  and  which  I  have  doubled  four  times 
over  again,  and  so  become  rich  once  more.  Along  with  this  money  I  have 
brought  a  little  gift  to  thee  and  thy  brave  men  from  my  dear  lady  and  myself." 
Then,  turning  to  his  men,  he  called  aloud,  "  Bring  forth  the  packhorses." 

But  Robin  stopped  them.  "  Nay,  Sir  Richard,"  said  he,  "  think  it  not  bold 
of  me  to  cross  thy  bidding,  but  we  of  Sherwood  do  no  business  till  after  we 
have  eaten  and  drank  ;  whereupon,  taking  Sir  Richard  by  the  hand,  he  led  him 
to  the  seat  beneath  the  greenwood  tree,  whilst  others  of  the  chief  men  of  the 
band  came  and  seated  themselves  around.  Then,  quoth  Robin,  "  How  cometh 
it  that  I  saw  young  David  of  Doncaster  with  thee  and  thy  men,  Sir  Knight  ? " 

Then  straightway  the  Knight  told  all  about  his  stay  at  Denby  and  of  the 
happening  at  the  fair,  and  how  it  was  like  to  go  hard  with  young  David  ;  so  he 
told  his  tale,  and  quoth  he,  "  It  was  this,  good  Robin,  that  kept  me  so  late  on 
the  way,  otherwise  I  would  have  been  here  an  hour  agone." 

Then,  when  he  had  done  speaking,  Robin  stretched  out  his  hand  and  grasped 
the  Knight's  palm.  Quoth  he  in  a  trembling  voice,  "  I  owe  thee  a  debt  I  can 
never  hope  to  repay,  Sir  Richard,  for  let  me  tell  thee,  I  would  rather  lose  my 
right  hand  than  have  such  ill  befall  young  David  of  Doncaster  as  seemed  like 
to  come  upon  him  at  Denby." 

So  they  talked  until  after  a  while  one  came  forward  to  say  that  the  feast  was 
spread  ;  whereupon  all  arose  and  went  thereto.     When  at  last  it    Rgbin  Hood 
was  done,  the  Knight  called  upon  his  men  to  bring  the  pack-   feasts  sir  Kick- 
horses  forward,  which  they  did  according  to  his  bidding.     Then 
one  of  the  men  brought  the  Knight  a  strong  box,  which  he  opened  and  took 
from  it  a  bag  and  counted  out  five  hundred  pounds,  the  sum  of  the  money  "he 
had  gotten  from  Robin. 

"  Sir  Richard,"  quoth  Robin,  "  thou  wilt  pleasure  us  all  if  thou  wilt  keep  that 
money  as  a  gift  from  us  of  Sherwood.  Is  it  not  so,  my  lads  ? " 

Then  all  shouted  "Ay"  with  a  mighty  voice. 

"  I  thank  you  all  deeply,"  said  the  Knight,  earnestly,  "  but  think  it  not  ill  of 
me  if  I  cannot  take  it.  Gladly  have  I  borrowed  it  from  you,  but  it  may  not  be 
that  I  can  take  it  as  a  gift." 

Then  Robin  Hood  said  no  more,  but  gave  the  money  to  Little  John  to  put 
away  in  the  treasury,  for  he  had  shrewdness  enough  to  know  that  nought  breeds 


1 84 


HO  W  SIR  RICHARD  OF  THE  LEA  PAID  HIS  DEBTS. 


present  from 
himself  and 
Lady  Lea. 


ill-will  and  heart-bitterness  like  gifts  forced  upon  one  that  cannot  choose  but 
take  them. 

Then  Sir  Richard  had  the  packs  laid  upon  the  ground  and  opened,  whereupon 
Sir  Richard  of  a  great  shout  went  up  that  made  the  forest  ring  again,  for  lo, 
the Leagiveth  there  were  tenscore  bows  of  finest  Spanish  yew,  all  burnished  till 

Robin  Hood  and  _  .... 

his  band  a  noble  they  shone  again,  and  each  bow  inlaid  with  fanciful  figures  in 
silver,  yet  not  inlaid  so  as  to  mar  their  strength.  Beside  these 
were  tenscore  quivers  of  leather  embroidered  with  golden  thread, 
and  in  each  quiver  were  a  score  of  shafts  with  burnished  heads  that  shone  like 
silver  ;  each  shaft  also  was  feathered  with  peacock's  plumes  and  innocked  with 
silver. 

Sir  Richard  gave  to  each  yeoman  a  bow  and  a  quiver  of  arrows,  but  to  Robin 
he  gave  a  stout  bow  inlaid  with  the  cunningest  workmanship  in  gold,  whilst 
each  arrow  in  his  quiver  was  innocked  with  gold. 

Then  all  shouted  again  for  joy  of  the  fair  gift,  and  all  swore  among  them 
selves  that  they  would  die  if  need  be  for  Sir  Richard  and  his  lady. 

At  last  the  time  came  when  Sir  Richard  must  go,  whereupon  Robin  Hood 
called  his  band  around  him,  and  each  man  of  the  yeomen  took  a  torch  in  his 
hand  to  light  the  way  through  the  woodlands.  So  they  came  to  the  edge  of 
Sherwood,  and  there  the  Knight  kissed  Robin  upon  the  cheeks  and  left  him 
and  was  gone. 

Thus  Robin  Hood  helped  a  noble  knight  out  of  his  dire  misfortunes,  that 
else  would  have  smothered  the  happiness  from  his  life. 

Now  listen,  and  you  shall  next  hear  of  certain  merry  adventures  that  befell 
Robin  Hood  and  Little  John,  and  how  one  turned  beggar  and  the  other  bare 
foot  friar  ;  likewise  what  each  gained  thereby. 


LITTLE-  JOHN-  journeys.  in-Holy. 


PART  SIXTH. 

In  which  it  is  told  how  that  Robin  Hood  and  Little  John  turned,  the 
one  a  beggar  and  the  other  a  strolling  Friar,  and  went  forth  to  seek 
adventures.  Likewise  it  is  told  how  Little  John  prayed  to  some 
purpose,  and  how  Robin  Hood  drubbed  four  beggars  and  outwitted 
a  corn  engrosser. 

Pfi    "    •         .   "     I-  .  \    '        •  '- 

Little  John  turns  Barefoot   Friar. 

OLD  winter  had  passed  and  spring  had  come.  No  leafy 
thickness  had  yet  clad  the  woodlands,  but  the  budding 
leaves  hung  like  a  tender  mist  about  the  trees.  In  the 
open  country  the  meadow  lands  lay  a  sheeny  green,  the 
cornfields  a  dark  velvety  color,  for  they  were  thick  and 
soft  with  the  growing  blades.  The  plough-boy  shouted 
in  the  sun,  and  in  the  purple  new-turned  furrows  flocks 
of  birds  hunted  for  fat  worms.  All  the  broad  moist 
earth  smiled  in  the  warm  light,  and  each  little  green 
hill  clapped  its  hands  for  joy. 

On  a  deer's  hide,  stretched  on  the  ground  in  the  open  in  front  of  the  green 
wood  tree,  sat  Robin  Hood  basking  in  the  sun  like  an  old  dog  fox.  Leaning 
back  with  his  hands  clasped  about  his  knees,  he  lazily  watched  Little  John 
rolling  a  stout  bowstring  from  long  strands  of  hempen  thread,  wetting  the 


1 88  LITTLE   JOHN  TURNS  BAREFOOT  FRIAR. 

palms  of  his  hands  ever  and  anon,  and  rolling  the  cord  upon  his  thigh.  Near 
by  sat  Allan  a  Dale  fitting  a  new  string  to  his  harp. 

Quoth  Robin  at  last,  "  Methinks  I  would  rather  roam  this  forest  in  the  gen 
tle  springtime  than  be  king  of  all  rnerry  England.  What  palace  in  the  broad 
world  is  as  fair  as  this  sweet  woodland  just  now,  and  what  king  in  all  the  world 
hath  such  appetite  for  plover's  eggs  and  lampreys  as  I  for  juicy  venison  and 
sparkling  ale  ?  Gaffer  Swanthold  speaks  truly  when  he  saith,  '  Better  a  crust 
with  content  than  honey  with  a  sour  heart.' " 

"  Yea,"  quoth  Little  John,  as  he  rubbed  his  new-made  bow-string  with  yellow 
beeswax,  "the  life  we  lead  is  the  life  for  me.  Thou  speakest  of  the  springtime, 
but  methinks  even  the  winter  hath  its  own  joys.  Thou  and  I,  good  master, 
have  had  more  than  one  merry  day,  this  winter  past,  at  the  Blue  Boar.  Dost 
thou  not  remember  that  night  thou  and  Will  Stutely  and  Friar  Tuck  and  I 
passed  at  that  same  hostelry  with  the  two  beggars  and  the  strolling  friar  ? " 

"  Yea,"  quoth  merry  Robin,  laughing ;  "  that  was  the  night  that  Will  Stutely 
must  needs  snatch  a  kiss  from  the  stout  hostess,  and  got  a  canakin  of  ale  emp 
tied  over  his  head  for  his  pains." 

"Truly,  it  was  the  same,"  said  Little  John,  laughing  also.  "Methinks  that 
was  a  goodly  song  that  the  strolling  friar  sang.  Friar  Tuck,  thou  hast  a  quick 
ear  for  a  tune,  dost  thou  not  remember  it  ? " 

"  I  did  have  the  catch  of  it  one  time,"  said  Tuck.     "  Let  me  see ;  "  and  he 

Friar  Tuck         touched  his  forefinger  to  his  forehead  in  thought,  b  -mming  to 

singeth  a  merry    himself,  and   stopping  ever  and  anon  to  fit  what  he  nad  got  to 

what  he  searched  for  in  his  mind.     At   last  he  foun^  it  all,  and 

clearing  his  throat,  sang  merrily  :  — 

"  In  the  blossoming  hedge  the  robin  cock  sings, 

For  the  sun  it  is  merry  and  bright, 
And  he  joyfully  hops  and  he  flutters  his  wings, 
For  his  heart  is  all  full  of  delight. 
For  the  May  bloometh  fair, 
And  there 's  little  of  care, 
And  plenty  to  eat  in  the  Maytime  rare. 
When  the  flowers  all  die, 
Then  off  he  will  fly, 
To  keep  himself  warm 
In  some  jolly  old  barn 
Where  the  snow  and  the  wind  neither  chill  him  nor  harm. 

'•'•And  such  is  the  life  of  the  strolling  friar, 
With  a  plenty  to  cat  and  to  drink : 


LITTLE    JOHN  TURNS  BAREFOOT  FRIAR.  189 

For  the  good-wife  will  keep  him  a  seat  by  the  fire, 
And  the  pretty  girls  smile  at  his  wink. 

Then  he  lustily  trolls, 

As  he  onward  strolls, 
A  rollicking  song  for  the  saving  of  souls. 

When  the  wind  doth  blow, 

With  the  coming  of  snow, 

There  's  a  place  by  the  fire 

For  the  fatherly  friar, 
And  a  crab  in  the  bowl  for  his  hearfs  desire." 

Thus  Friar  Tuck  sang  in  a  rich  and  mellow  voice,  rolling  his  head  from  side 
to  side  in  time  with  the  music,  and  when  he  had  clone,  all  clapped  their  hands 
and  shouted  with  laughter,  for  the  song  fitted  him  well. 

"  In  very  sooth,"  quoth  Little  John,  "  it  is  a  goodly  song,  and,  were  I  not  a 
yeoman  of  Sherwood  Forest,  I  had  rather  be  a  strolling  friar  than  aught  else  in 
the  world." 

"  Yea,  it  is  a  goodly  song,"  said  Robin  Hood  ;  "  but  methought  those  two 
burly  beggars  told  the  merrier  tales  and  led  the  merrier  life.  Dost  thou  not  re 
member  what  that  great  black-bearded  fellow  told  of  his  begging  at  the  fair  'in 
York  ?  " 

"Yea,"  said  Little  John,  "but  what  told  the  friar  of  the  Harvest-home  in 
Kentshire  ?  I  hold  that  he  led  a  merrier  life  than  the  other  two." 

"  Truly,  for  the  honor  of  the  cloth,"  quoth  Friar  Tuck,  "  I  hold  with  my  good 
gossip,  Little  John." 

"  Now,"  quoth  Robin,  "  I  hold  to  mine  own  mind.  But  what  sayst  thou,  Little 
John,  to  a  merry  adventure  this  fair  day  ?  Take  thou  a  friar's  gown  from  our 
chest  of  strange  garments,  and  don  the  same,  and  I  will  stop  the  first  beggar  I 
meet  and  change  clothes  with  him.  Then  let  us  wander  the  country  about,  this 
sweet  day,  and  see  what  befalls  each  of  us." 

"  That  fitteth  my  mind,"  quoth  Little  John,  "  so  let  us  forth,  say  I." 

Thereupon  Little  John  and  Friar  Tuck  went  to  the  storehouse  of  the  band, 
and  there  chose  for  the  yeoman  the  robe  of  a  gray  friar.  Then  /;#//,  y0/,n  pu[. 
they  came  forth  again,  and  a  mighty  roar  of  laughter  went  up,  for  tetjl  °"  ******** 

J  of  a  grav  friar, 

not  only  had  the  band  never  seen  Little  John  in  such  guise  be-   and  he  'and  Roi> 


fore,  but  the  robe  was  too  short  for  him  by  a  good  palm's  breadth.    ^  ^"st^ofad- 
But  Little  John's  hands  were  folded  in  his  loose  sleeves,  and  Lit-   venturf*. 
tie  John's  eyes  were  cast  upon  the  ground,  and  at  his  girdle  hung  a  great,  long 
string  of  beads. 

"Tut,  tut  !"  quoth  Friar  Tuck,  nudging  him  with  his  elbow,  "look  not  down 
in  that  way  ;  raise  thine  eyes  boldly,  or  else  ali  will  know  thee  to  be  a  cheat, 


190  LITTLE   JOHN  TURNS  BAREFOOT  FRIAR. 

and  ne'er  a  lass  will  give  thee  a  smile,  and  ne'er  a  goodvvife  a  crust,  in  all  the 
countryside."  At  this  all  laughed  again,  swearing  that  never  was  there  so 
strapping  a  friar  in  all  merry  England  as  Little  John  made. 

And  now  Little  John  took  up  his  stout  staff,  at  the  end  of  which  hung  a 
chubby  little  leathern  pottle,  such  as  palmers  carry  at  the  tips  of  their  staves  ; 
but  in  it  was  something,  I  wot,  more  like  good  Malmsey  than  cold  spring 
water,  such  as  godly  pilgrims  carry.  Then  up  rose  Robin  and  took  his  stout 
staff  in  his  hand,  likewise,  and  slipped  ten  golden  angels  into  his  pouch  ;  for 
no  beggar's  garb  was  among  the  stores  of  the  band,  so  he  was  fain  to  run  his 
chance  of  meeting  a  beggar  and  buying  his  clothes  of  him. 

So,  all  being  made  ready,  the  two  yeomen  set  forth  on  their  way,  striding 
Robin  Hood  and  lustily  along  all  in  the  misty  morning.  Thus  they  walked  down 
^nhe^forking^f  the  forest  path  until  they  came  to  the  highway,  and  then  along 
the  roads.  the  highway  till  it  split  in  twain,  leading  on  one  hand  to  Blyth 

and  on  the  other  to  Gainsborough.     Here  the  yeomen  stopped. 

Quoth  Jolly  Robin,  "Take  thou  the  road  to  Gainsborough,  and  I  will  take 
that  to  Blyth.  So,  fare  thee  well,  holy  father,  and  mayst  thou  not  ha'  cause  to 
count  thy  beads  in  earnest  ere  we  meet  again." 

'"Good  den,  good  beggar  that  is  to  be,"  quoth  Little  John,  "and  mayst  thou 
have  no  cause  to  beg  for  mercy  ere  I  see  thee  next." 

So  each  stepped  sturdily  upon  his  way  until  a  green  hill  rose  between  them, 
and  the  one  was  hid  from  the  sight  of  the  other. 

Little  John  walked  along,  v/histling,  for  no  one  was  nigh  upon  all  the  road. 
In  the  budding  hedges  the  little  birds  twittered  merrily,  and  on  either  hand  the 
green  hills  swept  up  to  the  sky,  the  great  white  clouds  of  springtime  sailing 
slowly  over  their  crowns  in  lazy  flight.  Up  hill  and  down  dale  walked  Little 
John,  the  fresh  wind  blowing  in  his  face  and  his  robes  fluttering  behind  him, 
Little  John  fall-  anc*  so  at  last  ne  came  to  a  cross-road  that  led  to  Tuxford.  Here 
eth  in  with  three  he  met  three  pretty  lasses,  each  bearing  a  basket  of  eggs  to  mar 
ket.  Quoth  he,  "Whither  away,  fair  maids  ? "  And  he  stood  in 
their  path,  with  his  legs  apart,  holding  his  staff  in  front  of  them,  to  stop  them. 

Then  they  huddled  together  and  nudged  one  another,  and  one  presently 
spake  up  and  said,  "  We  are  going  to  the  Tuxford  market,  holy  Friar,  to  sell 
our  eggs." 

"  Now  out  upon  it ! "  quoth  Little  John,  looking  upon  them  with  his  head 
on  one  side.  "  Surely,  it  is  a  pity  that  such  fair  lasses  should  be  forced  to 
carry  eggs  to  market.  Let  me  tell  you,  an  I  had  the  shaping  of  things  in  this 
world,  ye  should  all  three  have  been  clothed  in  the  finest  silks,  and  ride  upon 
milk-white  horses,  with  pages  at  your  side,  and  feed  upon  nothing  but  whipped 
cream  and  strawberries  ;  for  such  a  life  would  surely  befit  your  looks." 


LITTLE    JOHN  TURNS  BAREFOOT  FRIAR.  191 

At  this  speech  all  three  of  the  pretty  maids  looked  down,  blushing  and  sim 
pering.  One  said,  "  La !  "  another,  "  Marry,  a'  maketh  sport  of  us  !  "  and  the 
third,  "Listen,  now,  to  the  holy  man  !"  but  at  the  same  time  they  looked  at 
Little  John  from  out  the  corners  of  their  eyes. 

"  Nay,"  quoth  Little  John,  roundly,  "holy  man  or  no  holy  man,  I  know  a 
fair  lass  when  I  see  her,  and  if  e'er  a  man  hereabouts  sayeth  ye  are  not  the  fair 
est  three  in  all  Nottinghamshire,  I  '11  knock  his  vile  teeth  down  his  lying  throat 
with  this  stout  staff.  Hear  ye  that,  now  !  " 

Then  all  the  lasses  cried,  "  La  !  "  again. 

"  Now,  look  you,"  said  Little  John,  "  I  cannot  see  such  dainty  damsels  as  ye 
are  carrying  baskets  along  a  high-road.  Let  me  take  them  mine  own  self,  and 
one  of  you,  if  ye  will,  may  carry  my  staff  for  me." 

"  Nay,"  said  one  of  the  lasses,  "  but  thou  canst  not  carry  three  baskets  all  at 
one  time." 

"  Yea,  but  I  can,"  said  Little  John,  "  and  that  I  will  show  you  presently.     I 
thank  the  good  Saint  Wilfred  that  he  hath  given  me  a  pretty  wit.    uttie  John 
Look  ye,  now.     Here  I  take  this  great  basket,  so ;  here  I  tie  my    turneth  his  wits 

J    '  •>      to  devising  a 

rosary  around  the  handle,  thus;  and  here  I  slip  the  rosary  over  plan  whereby  he 
my  head  and  sling  the  basket  upon  my  back,  in  this  wise."  And  ^hreeTaskets* of 
Little  John  did  according  to  his  words,  the  basket  hanging  down  e?ss- 
behind  him  like  a  pedler's  pack  ;  then,  giving  his  staff  to  one  of  the  maids,  and 
taking  a  basket  upon  either  arm,  he  turned  his  face  toward  Tuxford  Town,  and 
stepped  forth  merrily,  a  laughing  maid  on  either  side,  and  one  walking  ahead, 
carrying  the  staff.  In  this  wise  they  journeyed  along,  and  every  one  they 
met  stopped  and  looked  after  them,  laughing,  for  never  had  anybody  seen  such 
a  merry  sight  as  this  tall,  strapping  Gray  Friar,  with  robes  all  too  short  for  him, 
laden  with  eggs,  and  tramping  the  road  with  three  pretty  lasses.  For  this  Lit 
tle  John  cared  not  a  whit,  but  when  such  folks  gave  jesting  words  to  him  he 
answered  back  as  merrily,  speech  for  speech. 

So  they  stepped  along  toward  Tuxford,  chatting  and  laughing,  until  they 
came  nigh  to  the  town.  Here  Little  John  stopped  and  set  down  the  baskets, 
for  he  did  not  care  to  go  into  the  town  lest  he  should,  perchance,  meet  some  of 
the  Sheriff's  men.  "  Alas  !  sweet  chucks,"  quoth  he,  "  here  I  must  leave  you. 
I  had  not  thought  to  come  this  way,  but  I  am  glad  that  I  did  so.  Now,  ere  we 
part,  we  must  drink  sweet  friendship."  So  saying,  he  unslung  the  leathern 
pottle  from  the  end  of  his  staff,  and,  drawing  the  stopper  therefrom,  he  handed 
it  to  the  lass  who  had  carried  his  staff,  first  wiping  the  mouth  uttle  John  Uav- 
of  the  pottle  upon  his  sleeve.  Then  each  lass  took  a  fair  drink  etk  the  lasses 

r        .  .  .  .  ,n  iT-i        near  Tuxford. 

oi  what  was  within,  and  when  it  had  passed  all  around,  Little 

John  finished  what  was  left,  so  that  not  another  drop  could  be  squeezed  from 


I9.2  LITTLE   JOHN  TURNS  BAREFOOT  FRIAR. 

it.  Then,  kissing  each  lass  sweetly,  he  wished  them  all  good  den,  and  left 
them.  But  the  maids  stood  looking  after  him  as  he  walked  away  whistling. 
"  What  a  pity,"  quoth  one,  "  that  such  a  stout,  lusty  lad  should  be  in  holy  or 
ders." 

"  Marry,"  quoth  Little  John  to  himself,  as  he  strode  along,  "yon  was  no 
such  ill  happening  ;  Saint  Dunstan  send  me  more  of  the  like." 

After  he  had  trudged  along  for  a  time  he  began  to  wax  thirsty  again  in  the 
warmth  of  the  day.  He  shook  his  leathern  pottle  beside  his  ear,  but  not  a 
sound  came  therefrom.  Then  he  placed  it  to  his  lips  and  tilted  it  high  aloft, 
but  not  a  drop  was  there.  "  Little  John  !  Little  John  !  "  said  he  sadly  to  him 
self,  shaking  his  head  the  while,  "  woman  will  be  thy  ruin  yet,  if  thou  dost  not 
take  better  care  of  thyself." 

But  at  last  he  reached  the  crest  of  a  certain  hill,  and  saw  below  a  sweet  little 
thatched  inn  lying  snugly  in  the  dale  beneath  him,  toward  which  the  road 
dipped  sharply.  At  the  sight  of  this  a  voice  within  him  cried  aloud,  "  I  give 
thee  joy,  good  friend,  for  yonder  is  thy  heart's  delight,  to  wit,  a  sweet  rest  and 
a  cup  of  brown  beer."  So  he  quickened  his  pace  down  the  hill,  and  so  came 
to  the  little  inn,  from  which  hung  a  sign  with  a  stag's  head  painted  upon  it. 
In  front  of  the  door  a  clucking  hen  was  scratching  in  the  dust  with  a  brood  of 
chickens  about  her  heels,  the  sparrows  were  chattering  of  household  affairs 
under  the  eaves,  and  all  was  so  sweet  and  peaceful  that  Little  John's  heart 
laughed  within  him.  Beside  the  door  stood  two  stout  cobs  with  broad  soft 
padded  saddles,  well  fitted  for  easy  travelling,  and  speaking  of  rich 

Little  Jonn  cotn-     r  !'-«'«  r  n 

eth  to  an  inn  guests  in  the  parlor.  In  front  of  the  door  three  merry  fellows,  a 
mfr/y'^pany  tinker,  a  pedler,  and  a  beggar,  were  seated  on  a  bench  in  the  sun 
thereat.  quaffing  stout  ale. 

"  I  give  you  good  den,  sweet  friends,"  quoth  Little  John,  striding  up  to  where 
they  sat. 

"  Give  thee  good  den,  holy  father,"  quoth  the  merry  Beggar  with  a  grin. 
"  But  look  thee,  thy  gown  is  too  short.  Thou  hadst  best  cut  a  piece  off  the  top 
and  tack  it  to  the  bottom,  so  that  it  may  be  long  enough.  But  come,  sit  beside 
us  here  and  take  a  taste  of  ale,  if  thy  vows  forbid  thee  not." 

"  Nay,"  quoth  Little  John,  also  grinning,  "  the  blessed  Saint  Dunstan  hath 
given  me  a  free  dispensation  for  all  indulgence  in  that  line."  And  he  thrust 
his  hand  into  his  pouch  for  money  to  pay  his  score. 

"  Truly,"  quoth  the  Tinker,  "without  thy  looks  belie  thee,  holy  friar,  the  good 
Saint  Dunstan  was  wise,  for  without  such  dispensation  his  votary  is  like  to  ha' 
many  a  penance  to  make.  Nay,  take  thy  hand  from  out  thy  pouch,  brother,  for 
thou  shalt  not  pay  this  shot.  Ho,  landlord,  a  pot  of  ale !  " 

So  the  ale  was  brought  and  given  to  Little  John.     Then,  blowing  the  froth  a 


LITTLE   JOHN  TURNS  BAREFOOT  FRIAR.  193 

little  away  to  make  room  for  his  lips,  he  tilted  the  bottom  of  the  pot  higher  and 
higher,  till  it  pointed  to  the  sky,  and  he  had  to  shut  his  eyes  to  keep  the  dazzle 
of  the  sunshine  out  of  them.  Then  he  took  the  pot  away,  for  there  was  noth 
ing  in  it,  and  heaved  a  full  deep  sigh,  looking  at  the  others  with  moist  eyes  and 
shaking  his  head  solemnly. 

"  Ho,  landlord  ! "  cried  the  Pedler,  "  bring  this  good  fellow  another  pot  of 
ale,  for  truly  it  is  a  credit  to  us  all  to  have  one  amongst  us  who  can  empty  a 
canakin  so  lustily." 

So  they  talked  among  themselves  merrily,  until  after  a  while  quoth  Little 
John,  "Who  rideth  those  two  nags  yonder  ?  " 

"  Two  holy  men  like  thee,  brother,   "  quoth   the  Beggar.     "  They  are  now 
having  a  goodly  feast  within,  for  I  smelt  the  steam  of  a  boiled    Thg  be?sar  feU, 
pullet  just  now.     The  landlady  sayeth  they  come  from  Fountain    eth  Little  John 
Abbey,  in  Yorkshire,  and  go  to  Lincoln  on  matters  of  business."      if  Fountain 

"  They  are  a  merry  couple,"  said  the  Tinker,  "  for  one  is  as    Abbfy- 
lean  as  an  old  wife's  spindle,  and  the  other  as  fat  as  a  suet  pudding." 

"  Talking  of  fatness,"  said  the  Pedler,  "  thou  thyself  lookest  none  too  ill-fed, 
holy  friar." 

"  Nay,  truly,"  said  Little  John,  "  thou  seest  in  me  what  the  holy  Saint  Dun- 
stan  can  do  for  them  that  serve  him  upon  a  handful  of  parched  pease  and  a 
trickle  of  cold  water." 

At  this  a  great  shout  of  laughter  went  up.  "  Truly,  it  is  a  wondrous  thing," 
quoth  the  Beggar  ;  "I  would  have  made  my  vow,  to  see  the  masterly  manner 
in  which  thou  didst  tuck  away  yon  pot  of  ale,  that  thou  hadst  not  tasted  clear 
water  for  a  brace  of  months.  Has  not  this  same  holy  Saint  Dunstan  taught 
thee  a  goodly  song  or  two  ? " 

"Why,  as  for  that,"  quoth  Little  John,  grinning,  "mayhap  he  hath  lent  me 
aid  to  learn  a  ditty  or  so." 

"  Then,  prythee,  let  us  hear  how  he  hath  taught  thee,"  quoth  Liule  ~hn  sin  _ 
the  Tinker.  eth  a  goodly 

At  this  Little  John  cleared  his  throat,  and,  after  a  word  or  two    song' 
about  a  certain  hoarseness  that  troubled  him,  sang  thus  :  — 

"  Ah,  pretty,  pretty  maid,  whither  dost  thou  go  ? 
I  prythee,  prythee,  wait  for  thy  lover  also, 

And  we  'II  gather  the  rose 

As  it  sweetly  blows, 
For  the  merry,  merry  winds  are  blo-o-o-wing" 

Now  it  seemed  as  though  Little  John's  songs  were  never  to  get  sung,  for  he 
had  got  no  farther  than  this  when  the  door  of  the  inn  opened  and  out  came  the 
13 


194  LITTLE   JOHN  TURNS  BAREFOOT  FRIAR. 

two  brothers  of  Fountain  Abbey,  the  landlord  following  them,  and,  as  the  say 
ing  is,  washing  his  hands  with  humble  soap.  But  when  the  brothers  of  Foun 
tain  Abbey  saw  who  it  was  that  sang,  and  how  he  was  clad  in  the  robes  of  a 
gray  friar,  they  stopped  suddenly,  the  fat  little  Brother  drawing  his  heavy 
The  brothers  of  eyebrows  together  in  a  mighty  frown,  and  the  thin  Brother  twist- 
Fountain  Abbey  ing  Up  his  face  as  though  he  had  sour  beer  in  his  mouth.  Then, 
Cjo/m  t'nhissing-  as  Little  John  gathered  his  breath  for  a  new  verse,  "  How,  now," 
ins-  roared  forth  the  fat  Brother,  his  voice  coming  from  him  like  loud 

thunder  from  a  little  cloud  ;  "  thou  naughty  fellow,  is  this  a  fit  place  for  one  in 
thy  garb  to  tipple  and  sing  profane  songs  ? " 

"  Nay,"  quoth  Little  John,  "  sin'  I  cannot  tipple  and  sing,  like  your  worship's 
reverence,  in  such  a  goodly  place  as  Fountain  Abbey,  I  must  e'en  tipple  and 
sing  where  I  can." 

"Now,  out  upon  thee,"  cried  the  tall  lean  Brother  in  a  harsh  voice;  "now, out 
upon  thee,  that  thou  shouldst  so  disgrace  thy  cloth  by  this  talk  and  bearing." 

"  Marry,  come  up  !  "  quoth  Little  John.  "  Disgrace,  sayest  thou  ?  Methinks 
it  is  more  disgrace  for  one  of  our  garb  to  wring  hard-earned  farthings  out  of  the 
gripe  of  poor  lean  peasants.  Is  it  not  so,  brother  ? " 

At  this  the  Tinker  and  the  Pedler  and  the  Beggar  nudged  one  another,  and 
all  grinned,  and  the  friars  scowled  blackly  at  Little  John  ;  but  they  could  think 
of  nothing  further  to  say,  so  they  turned  to  their  horses.  Then  Little  John 
arose  of  a  sudden  from  the  bench  where  he  sat,  and  ran  to  where  the  brothers 
of  Fountain  Abbey  were  mounting.  Quoth  he,  "  Let  me  hold  your  horses' 
Little  John  say.  bridles  for  you.  Truly,  your  words  have  smitten  my  sinful  heart, 
ah  that  he  will  that  j  wijj  abide  no  longer  in  this  den  of  evil,  but  will  go  for- 

%o  forward  with  ,  MI    r   n 

tht  brothers.  ward  with  you.  No  vile  temptation,  I  wot,  will  tall  upon  me  in 
such  holy  company." 

"  Nay,  fellow,"  said  the  lean  Brother  harshly,  for  he  saw  that  Little  John 
made  sport  of  them,  "  we  want  none  of  thy  company,  so  get  thee  gone." 

"  Alas,"  quoth  Little  John,  "  I  am  truly  sorry  that  ye  like  me  not  nor  my 
company,  but  as  for  leaving  you  it  may  not  be,  for  my  heart  is  so  moved,  that, 
willy-nilly,  I  must  go  with  you  for  the  sake  of  your  holy  company." 

Now  at  this  talk  all  the  good  fellows  on  the  bench  grinned  till  their  teeth 
glistened,  and  even  the  landlord  could  not  forbear  to  smile.  As  for  the  friars, 
they  looked  at  one  another  with  a  puzzled  look,  and  knew  not  what  to  do  in  the 
matter.  They  were  so  proud  that  it  made  them  feel  sick  v/ith  shame  to  think 
of  riding  along  the  high-road  with  a  strolling  friar,  in  robes  all  too  short  for 
him,  running  beside  them,  but  yet  they  could  not  make  Little  John  stay  against 
his  will,  for  they  knew  he  could  crack  the  bones  of  both  of  them  in  a  twinkling 
were  he  so  minded.  Then  up  spake  the  fat  Brother  more  mildly  than  he  had 


LITTLE    JOHN  TURNS  BAREFOOT  FRIAR.  195 

done  before.  "  Nay,  good  brother,"  said  he,  "  we  will  ride  fast,  and  thou  wilt 
tire  to  death  at  the  pace." 

"  Truly,  I  am  grateful  to  thee  for  the  thought  of  me,"  quoth  Little  John  ;  "but 
have  no  fear,  brother ;  my  limbs  are  stout,  and  I  could  run  like  a  hare  from 
here  to  Gainsborough." 

At  these  words  a  sound  of  laughing  came  from  the  bench,  whereat  the  lean 
Brother's  wrath  boiled  over,  like  water  into  the  fire,  with  great  fuss  and  noise. 
"Now,  out  upon  thee,  thou  naughty  fellow!"  he  cried.  "Art  thou  not  ashamed 
to  bring  disgrace  so  upon  our  cloth  ?  Bide  thee  here,  thou  sot,  with  these 
porkers.  Thou  art  no  fit  company  for  us." 

"  La  ye  there  now  !  "  quoth  Little  John.  "Thou  hearest,  landlord  ;  thou  art 
not  fit  company  for  these  holy  men  ;  go  back  to  thine  ale-house.  Nay,  if  these 
most  holy  brothers  of  mine  do  but  give  me  the  word,  I  '11  beat  thy  head  with 
this  stout  staff  till  it  is  as  soft  as  whipped  eggs." 

At  these  words  a  great  shout  of  laughter  went  up  from  those  on  the  bench, 
and  the  landlord's  face  grew  red  as  a  cherry  from  smothering  his  laugh  in  his 
stomach  ;  but  he  kept  his  merriment  down,  for  he  wished  not  to  bring  the  ill- 
will  of  the  brothers  of  Fountain  Abbey  upon  him  by  unseemly  mirth.  So  the 
two  brethren,  as  they  could  do  naught  else,  having  mounted  their  nags,  turned 
their  noses  toward  Lincoln,  and  rode  away. 

"  I  cannot  stay  longer,  sweet  friends,"  quoth  Little  John,  as  he  pushed  in 
betwixt  the  two  cobs,  "therefore  I  wish  you  good  den.  Off  we  Little  John  and 
go,  we  three."  So  saying,  he  swung  his  stout  staff  over  his  *of Fountain* Ab- 
shoulder  and  trudged  off,  measuring  his  pace  with  that  of  the  two  bey  leave  the  inn. 
nags. 

The  two  brothers  glowered  at  Little  John  when  he  so  pushed  himself  betwixt 
them,  then  they  drew  as  far  away  from  him  as  they  could,  so  that  the  yeoman 
walked  in  the  middle  of  the  road,  whilst  they  rode  on  the  footpath  on  either 
side  of  the  way.  As  they  so  went  away,  the  Tinker,  the  Pedler,  and  the  Beggar 
ran  skipping  out  into  the  middle  of  the  highway,  each  with  a  pot  in  his  hand, 
and  looked  after  them  laughing. 

Whilst  they  were  in  sight  of  those  at  the  inn  the  two  brothers  walked  their 
horses  soberly,  not  caring  to  make  ill  matters  worse  by  seeming  to  run  away 
from  Little  John,  for  they  could  not  but  think  how  it  would  sound  in  folks'  ears 
when  they  heard  how  the  brethren  of  Fountain  Abbey  scampered  away  from  a 
strolling  friar,  like  the  Ugly  One,  when  the  blessed  Saint  Dunstan  loosed  his 
nose  from  the  red-hot  tongs  where  he  had  held  it  fast ;  but  when  they  had 
crossed  the  crest  of  the  hill  and  the  inn  was  lost  to  sight,  quoth  the  fat  Brother 
to  the  thin  Brother,  "Brother  Ambrose,  had  we  not  better  mend  our  pace?" 

"  Why  truly,  gossip,"  spoke  up  Little  John,  "  methinks  it  would  be  well  to 


196  LITTLE   JOHN  TURNS  BAREFOOT  FRIAR. 

boil  our  pot  a  little  faster,  for  the  day  is  passing  on.  So  if  it  will  not  jolt  thy 
fat  too  much,  onward,  say  I." 

At  this  the  two  friars  said  nothing,  but  they  glared  again  on  Little  John 
with  baleful  looks  ;  then,  without  another  word,  they  clucked  to  their  horses, 
and  both  broke  into  a  canter.  So  they  galloped  for  a  mile  and  more,  and  Little 
John  ran  betwixt  them  as  lightly  as  a  stag,  and  never  turned  a  hair  with  the 
running.  At  last  the  fat  Brother  drew  his  horse's  rein  with  a  groan,  for  he 
could  stand  the  shaking  no  longer.  "  Alas,"  said  Little  John,  with  not  so  much 
as  a  catch  in  his  breath,  "  I  did  sadly  fear  that  the  roughness  of  this  pace  would 
shake  thy  poor  old  fat  paunch." 

To  this  the  fat  Friar  said  never  a  word,  but  he  stared  straight  before  him, 
and  he  gnawed  his  nether  lip.  And  now  they  travelled  forward  more  quietly, 
Little  John  in  the  middle  of  the  road  whistling  merrily  to  himself,  and  the  two 
friars  in  the  footpath  on  either  side  saying  never  a  word. 

Then  presently  they  met  three  merry  minstrels,  all  clad  in  red,  who  stared 
Little  John  and  amain  to  see  a  Gray  Friar  with  such  short  robes  walking  in  the 
meeUhreeifrvU-  middle  of  the  road,  and  two  brothers,  with  heads  bowed  with 
ing  minstrels.  shame,  riding  upon  richly-caparisoned  cobs  on  the  foot-paths. 
When  they  had  come  near  to  the  minstrels,  Little  John  waved  his  staff  like  an 
usher  clearing  the  way.  "  Make  way  !  "  he  cried,  in  a  loud  voice,  "  Make  way  ! 
make  way !  for  here  we  go  ;  we  three  !  "  Then  how  the  minstrels  stared,  and 
how  they  laughed !  But  the  fat  Friar  shook  as  with  an  ague,  and  the  lean 
Friar  bowed  his  head  over  his  horse's  neck. 

Then  next  they  met  a  stout  burgher  and  his  wife  and  their  two  fair  daugh- 
.  ters,  all  dressed  in  their  Sunday  best,  riding  from  their  cousin's 

Lime  john  and  . 

the  two  friars  house  in  the  country  back  to  Tuxford  again.  These  Little  John 
™urgLr°and  his  saluted  gravely.  Quoth  he,  "  Good  den,  good  folk.  Here  we  go, 
•wife  and  his  two  we  three."  At  this  the  women  stared,  for  women  do  not  take  a 
joke  so  quickly  as  men  ;  but  the  merry  old  burgher  laughed  till 
his  fat  side  shook  and  his  cheeks  grew  red  and  water  stood  in  his  eyes. 

Then  the  third  they  met  were  two  noble  knights  in  rich  array,  with  hawk  on 
Little  John  and  wr"ist.  and  likewise  two  fair  ladies  clad  in  silks  and  velvets,  all 
the  two  friars  a-riding  on  noble  steeds.  These  all  made  room,  staring,  as  Little 

meet  two  noble       T  ...  .  IT^I  T  •     i 

knights  and  two  John  and  the  two  friars  came  along  the  road,  lo  them  Little 
fair  ladies.  John  bowed  humbly.  "Give  you  greeting,  lords  and  ladies,"  said 
he.  "  But  here  we  go,  we  three." 

Then  all  laughed,  and  one  of  the  fair  ladies  cried  out,  "  What  three  meanest 
thou,  merry  friend  ?" 

Little  John  looked  over  his  shoulder,  for  they  had  now  passed  each  other, 
and  he  called  back,  "  Big  Jack,  lean  Jack,  and  fat  Jack-pudding." 


LITTLE    JOHN  TURNS  BAREFOOT  FRIAR.  197 

At  this  the  fat  Friar  gave  a  groan  and  seemed  as  if  he  were  like  to  fall  from 
his  saddle  for  shame  ;  the  other  brother  said  nothing,  but  he  looked  before  him 
with  a  grim  and  stony  look. 

Just  ahead  of  them  the  road  took  a  sudden  turn  around  a  high  hedge,  and 
some  twoscore  paces  beyond  the  bend  another  road  crossed  the  one  they  were 
riding  upon.  When  they  had  come  to  the  cross-road  and  were  well  away  from 
those  they  had  left,  the  lean  Friar  drew  rein  suddenly.  "  Look  ye,  fellow," 
quoth  he,  in  a  voice  quivering  with  rage,  "  we  have  had  enough  of  thy  vile 
company,  and  care  no  longer  to  be  made  sport  of.  Go  thy  way,  and  let  us  go 
ours  in  peace." 

"  La  there,  now  !  "  quoth  Little  John.  "  Methought  we  were  such  a  merry 
company,  and  here  thou  dost  blaze  up  like  fat  in  the  pan.  But  truly,  I  ha'  had 
enow  of  you  to-day,  though  I  can  ill  spare  your  company.  I  know  ye  will  miss 
me,  but  gin  ye  want  me  again,  whisper  to  Goodman  Wind,  and  Ljttie  y0^n  ^eg. 
he  will  bring  news  thereof  to  me.  But  ye  see  I  am  a  poor  man  f^A  a  P^nny  of 

.  the  two  friars 

and  ye  are  rich.     I  pray  you  give  me  a  penny  or  two  to  buy  me    ere  he  leavetk 
bread  and  cheese  at  the  next  inn."  them~ 

"We  have  no  money,  fellow,"  said  the  lean  Friar,  harshly.  "Come,  Brother 
Thomas,  let  us  forward." 

But  Little  John  caught  the  horses  by  the  bridle-reins,  one  in  either  hand. 
"  Ha'  ye  in  truth  no  money  about  you  whatsoever  ? "  said  he.  "  Now,  I  pray 
you,  brothers,  for  charity's  sake,  give  me  somewhat  to  buy  a  crust  of  bread, 
e'en  though  it  be  only  a  penny." 

"  I  tell  thee,  fellow,  we  have  no  money,"  thundered  the  fat  little  Friar  with 
the  great  voice. 

"  Ha'  ye,  in  holy  truth,  no  money  ?  "  asked  Little  John. 

"Not  a  farthing,"  said  the  lean  Friar,  sourly. 

"  Not  a  groat,"  said  the  fat  Friar,  loudly. 

"  Nay,"  quoth  Little  John,  "  this  must  not  be.  Far  be  it  from  me  to  see 
such  holy  men  as  ye  are  depart  from  me  with  no  money.  Get  both  of  you 
clown  straightway  from  off  your  horses,  and  we  will  kneel  here  in  the  middle 
of  the  cross-roads  and  pray  the  blessed  Saint  Dunstan  to  send  us  some  money 
to  carry  us  on  our  journey." 

"  What  sayest  thou,  thou  limb  of  evil  ! "  cried  the  lean  Friar,  fairly  gnashing 
his  teeth  with  rage.  "  Dost  thou  bid  me,  the  high  cellarer  of  Fountain  Abbey, 
to  get  down  from  my  horse  and  kneel  in  the  dirty  road  to  pray  to  some  beg 
garly  Saxon  saint  ? " 

"  Now,"  quoth  Little  John,  "I  ha'  a  great  part  of  a  mind  to  crack  thy  head 
for  thee  for  speaking  thus  of  the  good  Saint  Dunstan  !  But  get  down  straight 
way,  for  my  patience  will  not  last  much  longer,  and  I  may  forget  that  ye  are 


1 98  LITTLE   JOHN  TURNS  BAREFOOT  FRIAR. 

both  in  holy  orders."  So  saying,  he  twirled  his  stout  staff  till  it  whistled 
again. 

At  this  speech  both  friars  grew  as  pale  as  dough.  Down  slipped  the  fat 
Brother  from  off  his  horse  on  one  side,  and  down  slipped  the  lean  Brother  on 
the  other. 

"  Now,  brothers,  down  on  your  knees  and  pray,"  said  Little  John  ;  there 
upon,  putting  his  heavy  hands  upon  the  shoulder  of  each,  he  forced  them  to 
Little  John  and  their  knees,  he  kneeling  also.  Then  Little  John  began  to  be- 
the  two  friars  seech  Saint  Dunstan  for  money,  which  he  did  in  a  great  loud 

pray  to  Saint  A  r          i        i       i  i 

Dunstan  for  voice.  After  he  had  so  besought  the  Saint  for  a  time,  he  bade 
the  friars  feel  in  their  pouches  and  see  if  the  Saint  had  sent 
them  anything  ;  so  each  put  his  hand  slowly  in  the  pouch  that  hung  beside 
him,  but  brought  nothing  thence. 

"  Ha !  "  quoth  Little  John,  "  have  your  prayers  so  little  virtue  ?  Then  let  us 
at  it  again." 

Then  straightway  he  began  calling  on  Saint  Dunstan  again,  somewhat  in 
this  wise:  "O  gracious  Saint  Dunstan!  send  some  money  straightway  to 
these  poor  folk,  lest  the  fat  one  waste  away  and  grow  as  lean  as  the  lean  one, 
and  the  lean  one  waste  away  to  nothing  at  all,  ere  they  get  to  Lincoln  Town  ; 
but  send  them  only  ten  shillings  apiece,  lest  they  grow  puffed  up  with  pride. 
Any  more  than  that  that  thou  sendest,  send  to  me." 

"Now,"  quoth  he,  rising,  "let  us  see  what  each  man  hath."  Then  he  thrust 
his  hand  into  his  pouch,  and  drew  thence  four  golden  angels.  "  What  have  ye, 
brothers  ? "  said  he. 

Then  once  again  each  friar  slowly  thrust  his  hand  into  his  pouch,  and  once 
again  brought  it  out  with  nothing  in  it. 

"Have  ye  nothing?"  quoth  Little  John.  " Nay,  I  warrant  there  is  some 
what  that  hath  crept  into  the  seams  of  your  pouches,  and  so  ye  ha'  missed  it. 
Let  me  look." 

So  he  went  first  to  the  lean  Friar,  and,  thrusting  his  hand  into  the  pouch, 
he  drew  forth  a  leathern  bag,  and  counted  therefrom  one  hundred 

Saint  Dunstan  .     , 

answereth  Lit-  and  ten  pounds  of  golden  money.  "  I  thought,  quoth  Little 
'fr^erwitk  John,  "  that  thou  hadst  missed,  in  some  odd  corner  of  thy  pouch, 
great  bountiful-  the  money  that  the  blessed  Saint  had  sent  thee.  And  now  let 
me  see  whether  thou  hast  not  some,  also,  brother."  Thereupon 
he  thrust  his  hand  into  the  pouch  of  the  fat  Friar,  and  drew  thence  a  bag  like 
the  other  and  counted  out  from  it  threescore  and  ten  pounds.  "  Look,  ye 
now,"  quoth  he,  "  I  knew  the  good  Saint  had  sent  thee  some  pittance  that 
thou,  also,  hadst  missed." 

Then,  giving  them  one  pound  between  them,  he  slipped  the  rest  of  the  money 


LITTLE   JOHN  TURNS  BAREFOOT  FRIAR.  199 

into  his  own  pouch,  saying,  "  Ye  pledged  me  your  holy  word  that  ye  had  no 
money.  Being  holy  men,  I  trust  that  ye  would  not  belie  your  word  so  pledged, 
therefore  I  know  the  good  Saint  Dunstan  hath  sent  this  in  answer  to  my 
prayers.  But  as  I  only  prayed  for  ten  shillings  to  be  sent  to  each  of  you,  all 
over  and  above  that  belongeth  by  rights  to  me,  and  so  I  take  it.  I  give  you 
good  den,  brothers,  and  may  ye  have  a  pleasant  journey  hence-  Little  John  tak- 
forth."  So  saying,  he  turned  and  left  them,  striding  away.  The  tmfrianrf 
friars  looked  at  one  another  with  a  woful  look,  and  slowly  and  Fountain  Abbey. 
sadly  they  mounted  their  horses  again  and  rode  away  with  never  a  word. 

But  Liitle  John  turned  his  footsteps  back  again  to  Sherwood  Forest,  and 
merrily  he  whistled  as  he  strode  along. 

And  now  we  will  see  what  befell  Robin  Hood  in  his  venture  as  beggar. 


II. 

Robin  Hood  turns   Beggar. 

AFTER  jolly  Robin  had  left  Little  John  at  the  forking  of  the  roads,  he 
walked  merrily  onward  in  the  mellow  sunshine  that  shone  about  him. 
Ever  and  anon  he  would  skip  and  leap  or  sing  a  snatch  of  song,  for  pure 
joyousness  of  the  day ;  for,  because  of  the  sweetness  of  the  springtide,  his 
heart  was  as  lusty  within  him  as  that  of  a  colt  newly  turned  out  to  grass. 
Sometimes  he  would  walk  a  long  distance,  gazing  aloft  at  the  great  white  swell 
ing  clouds  that  moved  slowly  across  the  deep  blue  sky ;  anon  he  would  stop 
and  drink  in  the  fullness  of  life  of  all  things,  for  the  hedgerows  were  budding 
tenderly  and  the  grass  of  the  meadows  was  waxing  long  and  green  ;  again  he 
would  stand  still  and  listen  to  the  pretty  song  of  the  little  birds  in  the  thickets 
or  hearken  to  the  clear  crow  of  the  cock  daring  the  sky  to  rain,  whereat  he 
would  laugh,  for  it  took  but  little  to  tickle  Robin's  heart  into  merriment.  So 
he  trudged  manfully  along,  ever  willing  to  stop  for  this  reason  or  for  that,  and 
ever  ready  to  chat  with  such  merry  lasses  as  he  met  now  and  then.  So  the 
morning  slipped  along,  but  yet  he  met  no  beggar  with  whom  he  could  change 
clothes.  Quoth  he,  "  If  I  do  not  change  my  luck  in  haste,  I  am  like  to  have 
an  empty  day  of  it,  for  it  is  well  nigh  half  gone  already,  and,  although  I  have 
had  a  merry  walk  through  the  countryside,  I  know  nought  of  a  beggar's  life." 

Then,  after  a  while,  he  began  to  grow  hungry,  whereupon  his  mind  turned 
from  thoughts  of  springtime  and  flowers  and  birds  and  dwelt  upon  boiled  ca 
pons,  Malmsey,  white  bread,  and  the  like,  with  great  tenderness.  Quoth  he  to 
himself,  "  I  would  I  had  Willie  Wynkin's  wishing  coat ;  I  know  right  well  what 
I  should  wish  for,  and  this  it  should  be."  Here  he  marked  upon  the  fingers  of 
his  left  hand  with  the  forefinger  of  his  right  hand  those  things  which  he  wished 
for.  "  Firstly,  I  would  have  a  sweet  brown  pie  of  tender  larks ;  mark  ye,  not 
dry  cooked,  but  with  a  good  sop  of  gravy  to  moisten  it  withal.  Next,  I  would 
have  a  pretty  pullet,  fairly  boiled,  with  tender  pigeons'  eggs,  cunningly  sliced, 
garnishing  the  platter  around.  With  these  I  would  have  a  long,  slim  loaf  of 
wheaten  bread  that  hath  been  baked  upon  the  hearth  ;  it  should  be  warm  from 
the  fire,  with  glossy  brown  crust,  the  color  of  the  hair  of  mine  own  maid,  Mar 
ian,  and  this  same  crust  should  be  as  crisp  and  brittle  as  the  thin  white  ice 


ROBIN  HOOD    TURNS  BEGGAR.  20 1 

that  lies  across  the  furrows  in  the  early  winter's  morning.  These  will  do  for 
the  more  solid  things  ;  but  with  these  I  must  have  three  pottles,  fat  and  round, 
one  full  of  Malmsey,  one  of  Canary,  and  one  brimming  full  of  mine  own  dear 
lusty  sack."  Thus  spoke  Robin  to  himself,  his  mouth  growing  moist  at  the 
corners  with  the  thoughts  of  the  good  things  he  had  raised  in  his  own  mind. 

So,  talking  to  himself,  he  came  to  where  the  dusty  road  turned  sharply  around 
the  hedge,  all  tender  with  the  green  of  the  coming  leaf,  and  there  he  saw  before 
him  a  stout  fellow  sitting  upon  a  stile,  swinging  his  legs  in  idleness.  All  about 
this  lusty  rogue  dangled  divers  pouches  and  bags  of  different  Robin  Hood com- 
sizes  and  kinds,  a  dozen  or  more,  with  great,  wide,  gaping  mouths,  e/^/rsttSn^"f 
like  a  brood  of  hungry  daws.  His  coat  was  gathered  in  at  his  upon  a  stile. 
waist,  and  was  patched  with  as  many  colors  as  there  are  stripes  upon  a  May 
pole  in  the  springtide.  On  his  head  he  wore  a  great  tall  leathern  cap,  and 
across  his  knees  rested  a  stout  quarterstaff  of  blackthorn,  full  as  long  and 
heavy  as  Robin's.  As  jolly  a  beggar  was  he  as  ever  trod  the  lanes  and  byways 
of  Nottinghamshire,  for  his  eyes  were  as  gray  as  slate,  and  snapped  and  twink 
led  and  danced  with  merriment,  and  his  black  hair  curled  close  all  over  his 
head  in  little  rings  of  kinkyness. 

"  Halloa,  good  fellow,"  quoth  Robin,  when  he  had  come  nigh  to  the  other, 
"  what  art  thou  doing  here  this  merry  day,  when  the  flowers  are  peeping  and 
the  buds  are  swelling  ?  " 

Then  the  other  winked  one  eye,  and  straightway  trolled  forth  in  a  merry 

voice  :  — 

"  I  sit  upon  the  stile, 

And  I  sing  a  little  while 
As  I  wait  for  my  own  true  dear,  O, 
For  the  sun  is  shining  bright, 
And  the  leaves  are  dancing  light, 
And  the  little  fowl  sings  she  is  near,  O. 

"And  so  it  is  with  me,  bully  boy,  saving  that  my  doxy  cometh  not." 

"  Now  that  is  a  right  sweet  song,"  quoth  Robin,  "  and,  were  I  in  the  right 
mind  to  listen  to  thee,  I  could  bear  well  to  hear  more  ;  but  I  have  two  things 
of  seriousness  to  ask  of  thee  ;  so  listen,  I  prythee." 

At  this  the  jolly  Beggar  cocked  his  head  on  one  side,  like  a  rogue  of  a  mag 
pie.  Quoth  he,  "  I  am  an  ill  jug  to  pour  heavy  things  into,  good  friend,  and,  if 
I  mistake  not,  thou  hast  few  serious  words  to  spare  at  any  time." 

"  Nay,"  quoth  jolly  Robin,  "what  I  would  say  first  is  the  most  serious  of  all 
thoughts  to  me,  to  wit,  '  where  shall  I  get  somewhat  to  eat  and  drink  ? ' ' 

"  Sayst  thou  so  ? "  quoth  the  Beggar.  "  Marry,  I  make  no  such  serious 
thoughts  upon  the  matter.  I  eat  when  I  can  get  it,  and  munch  my  crust  when 


202  ROBIN  HOOD    TURNS  BEGGAR. 

I  can  get  no  crumb  ;  likewise,  when  there  is  no  ale  to  be  had  I  wash  the  dust 
from  out  my  throat  with  a  trickle  of  cold  water.  I  was  sitting  here,  as  thou 
earnest  upon  me,  bethinking  myself  whether  I  should  break  my  fast  or  no.  I 
do  love  to  let  my  hunger  grow  mightily  keen  ere  I  eat,  for  then  a  dry  crust  is 
as  good  to  me  as  a  venison  pasty  with  suet  and  raisins  is  to  stout  King  Harry. 
I  have  a  sharp  hunger  upon  me  now,  but  methinks  in  a  short  while  it  will  ripen 
to  a  right  mellow  appetite." 

"  Now,  in  good  sooth,"  quoth  merry  Robin,  laughing,  "  thou  hast  a  quaint 
tongue  betwixt  thy  teeth.  But  hast  thou  truly  nought  but  a  dry  crust  about 
thee  ?  Methinks  thy  bags  and  pouches  are  fat  and  lusty  for  such  thin  fare." 

"  Why,  mayhap  there  is  some  other  cold  fare  therein,"  said  the  Beggar,  slyly. 

"  And  hast  thou  nought  to  drink  but  cold  water?  "  said  Robin. 

"  Never  so  much  as  a  drop,"  quoth  the  Beggar.  "  Over  beyond  yon  clump  of 
trees  is  as  sweet  a  little  inn  as  ever  thou  hast  lifted  eyelid  upon  ;  but  I  go  not 
thither,  for  they  have  a  nasty  way  with  me.  Once,  when  the  good  Prior  of 
Emmet  was  dining  there,  the  landlady  set  a  dear  little  tart  of  stewed  crabs 
and  barley-sugar  upon  the  window-sill  to  cool,  and,  seeing  it  there,  and  fearing 
it  might  be  lost,  I  took  it  with  me  till  that  I  could  find  the  owner  thereof. 
Ever  since  then  they  have  acted  very  ill  toward  me  ;  yet  truth  bids  me  say  that 
they  have  the  best  ale  there  that  ever  rolled  over  my  tongue." 

At  this  Robin  laughed  aloud.  "  Marry,"  quoth  he,  "  they  did  ill  toward  thee 
for  thy  kindness.  But  tell  me  truly,  what  hast  thou  in  thy  pouches  ?  " 

"  Why,"  quoth  the  Beggar,  peeping  into  the  mouths  of  his  bags,  "  I  find  here 
a  goodly  piece  of  pigeon  pie,  wrapped  in  a  cabbage  leaf  to  hold  the  gravy. 
Here  I  behold  a  dainty  streaked  piece  of  brawn,  and  here  a  fair  lump  of  white 
bread.  Here  I  find  four  oaten  cakes  and  a  cold  knuckle  of  ham.  Ha  !  in  sooth 
't  is  strange  ;  but  here  I  behold  six  eggs  that  must  have  come  by  accident  from 
some  poultry  yard  hereabouts.  They  are  raw,  but  roasted  upon  the  coals,  and 
spread  with  a  piece  of  butter  that  I  see  "  — 

"  Peace,  good  friend  !  "  cried  Robin,  holding  up  his  hand.  "  Thou  makest 
my  poor  stomach  quake  with  ioy  for  what  thou  tellest  me  so 

Robin  Hood  of-  J    J 

fereth  the  Beg-     sweetly.     If  thou  wilt  give  me  to  eat,  I.  will  straightway  hie  me 

tO  that    Httle    inn    th°U  didst  tdl  °f  but 


of  the  victuals       of  ale  for  thy  drinking  and  mine." 

the  other  hath.  ,,,.,,       -r.  ti-          j 

"  Friend,  thou  hast  said  enough,  said  the  Beggar,  getting  down 
from  the  stile  ;  "  I  will  feast  thee  with  the  best  that  I  have  and  bless  Saint 
Cedric  for  thy  company.  But,  sweet  chuck,  I  prythee  bring  three  quarts  of 
ale  at  least,  one  for  thy  drinking  and  two  for  mine,  for  my  thirst  is  such  that 
methinks  I  can  drink  ale  as  the  sands  of  the  River  Dee  drink  salt  water." 

So  Robin  straightway  left  the  Beggar,  who,  upon  his  part,  went  to  a  budding 


ROBIN  HOOD    TURNS  BEG  GAP.  203 

lime  bush  back  of  the  hedge,  and  there  spread  his  feast  upon  the  grass  and 
roasted  his  eggs  upon  a  little  fagot  fire,  with  a  deftness  gained  by  long  labor 
in  that  line.  After  a  while  back  came  Robin  bearing  a  goodly  skin  of  ale  upon 
his  shoulder,  which  he  laid  upon  the  grass.  Then,  looking  upon  the  feast 
spread  upon  the  ground,  —  and  a  fair  sight  it  was  to  look  upon,  —  he  slowly 
rubbed  his  hand  over  his  stomach,  for  to  his  hungry  eyes  it  seemed  the  fairest 
sight  that  he  had  beheld  in  all  his  life. 

"  Friend,"  said  the  Beggar,  "  let  me  feel  the  weight  of  that  skin." 

"  Yea,  truly,"  quoth  Robin,  "  help  thyself,  sweet  chuck,  and  meantime  let  me 
see  whether  thy  pigeon  pie  is  fresh  or  no." 

So  the  one  seized  upon  the  ale  and  the  other  upon  the  pigeon  pie,  and 
nothing  was  heard  for  a  while  but  the  munching  of  food  and  the  Robin  Hood  and 
gurgle  of  ale  as  it  left  the  skin.  %£$«/& 

At  last,  after  a  long  time  had  passed  thus,  Robin  pushed  the    tree. 
food  from  him  and  heaved  a  great  sigh  of  deep  content,  for  he  felt  as  though 
he  had  been  made  all  over  anew. 

"  And  now,  good  friend,"  quoth  he,  leaning  upon  one  elbow,  "  I  would  have 
at  thee  about  that  other  matter  of  seriousness  of  which  I  spoke  not  long  since." 

"  How ! "  said  the  Beggar,  reproachfully ;  "  thou  wouldst  surely  not  talk  of 
things  appertaining  to  serious  affairs  upon  such  ale  as  this  ! " 

"  Nay,"  quoth  Robin,  laughing.  "  I  would  not  check  thy  thirst,  sweet  friend  ; 
drink  whilst  I  talk  to  thee.  Thus  it  is :  I  would  have  thee  know 

Robin  Hood  hk- 

that  I  have  taken  a  liking  to  thy  craft  and  would  fain  have  a  eth  the  Beggar's 
taste  of  a  beggar's  life  mine  own  self." 

Said  the  Beggar :  "  I  marvel  not  that  thou  hast  taken  a  liking  to  my  manner 
of  life,  good  fellow,  but  '  to  like '  and  '  to  do '  are  two  matters  of  different  sorts. 
I  tell  thee,  friend,  one  must  serve  a  long  apprenticeship  ere  one  can  learn  to  be 
even  so  much  as  a  clapper-dudgeon,  much  less  a  crank  or  an  Abraham-man.  1 
I  tell  thee,  lad,  thou  art  too  old  to  enter  upon  that  which  it  may  take  thee  years 
to  catch  the  hang  of." 

"  Mayhap  that  may  be  so,"  quoth  Robin,  "  for  I  bring  to  mind  that  Gaffer 
Swanthold  sayeth  Jack  Shoemaker  maketh  ill  bread  ;  Tom  Baker  maketh  ill 
shoon.  Nevertheless,  I  have  a  mind  to  taste  a  beggar's  life,  and  need  but  the 
clothing  to  be  as  good  as  any." 

"  I  tell  thee,  fellow,"  said  the  Beggar,  "  if  thou  wert  clad  as  sweetly  as  good 
Saint  Wynten,  the  patron  of  our  craft,  thou  wouldst  never  make  a  beggar. 
Marry,  the  first  jolly  traveller  that  thou  wouldst  meet  would  beat  thee  to  a 
pudding  for  thrusting  thy  nose  into  a  craft  that  belongeth  not  to  thee." 

1  Classes  of  travelling  mendicants  that  infested  England  as  late  as  the  middle  of  the  seventeenth  cen 
tury.  Vide  Dakkar's  English  Villainies,  etc. 


204  ROBIN  HOOD   TURNS  BEGGAR. 

"  Nevertheless,"  quoth  Robin,  "  I  would  have  a  try  at  it ;  and  methinks  I 
Robin  Hood  pro-  shall  change  clothes  with  thee,  for  thy  garb  seemeih  to  be  pretty, 
Pdo?Lt0wM*ihe  not  to  say  gay-  So  not  onlY  wil1  l  change  clothes,  but  I  will  give 
Beggar.  thee  two  golden  angels  to  boot.  I  have  brought  my  stout  staff 

with  me,  thinking  that  I  might  have  to  rap  some  one  of  the  brethren  of  thy 
cloth  over  the  head  by  way  of  argument  in  this  matter,  but  I  love  thee  so  much 
for  the  feast  thou  hast  given  me  that  I  would  not  lift  even  my  little  finger 
against  thee,  so  thou  needst  not  have  a  crumb  of  fear." 

To  this  the  Beggar  listened  with  his  knuckles  resting  against  his  hips,  and 
when  Robin  had  ended  he  cocked  his  head  on  one  side  and  thrust  his  tongue 
into  his  cheek. 

"  Marry  come  up,"  quoth  he  at  last.  "  Lift  thy  finger  against  me,  forsooth  ! 
Art  thou  out  of  thy  wits,  man  ?  My  name  is  Riccon  Hazel,  and  I  come  from 
Holywell,  in  Flintshire,  over  by  the  River  Dee.  I  tell  thee,  knave,  I  have 
cracked  the  head  of  many  a  better  man  than  thou  art,  and  even  now  I  would 
scald  thy  crown  for  thee  but  for  the  ale  thou  hast  given  me.  Now  thou  shalt 
not  have  so  much  as  one  tag-rag  of  my  coat,  even  could  it  save  thee  from 
hanging." 

"  Now,  fellow,"  said  Robin,  "  it  would  ill  suit  me  to  spoil  thy  pretty  head  for 
thee,  but  I  tell  thee  plainly,  that  but  for  this  feast  I  would  do  that  to  thee 
would  stop  thy  travelling  the  country  for  many  a  day  to  come.  Keep  thy  lips 
shut,  lad,  or  thy  luck  will  tumble  out  of  thy  mouth  with  thy  speech  ! " 

"  Now  out,  and  alas  for  thee,  man,  for  thou  hast  bred  thyself  ill  this  day  ! " 
cried  the  Beggar,  rising  and  taking  up  his  staff.  "  Take  up  thy  club  and  defend 
thyself,  fellow,  for  I  will  not  only  beat  thee  but  I  will  take  from  thee  thy  money 
and  leave  thee  not  so  much  as  a  clipped  groat  to  buy  thyself  a  lump  of  goose- 
grease  to  rub  thy  cracked  crown  withal.  So  defend  thyself,  I  say." 

Then  up  leaped  merry  Robin  and  snatched  up  his  staff  also.  "  Take  my 
money,  if  thou  canst,"  quoth  he.  "I  promise  freely  to  give  thee  every  farthing  if 
thou  dost  touch  me."  And  he  twirled  his  staff  in  his  fingers  till  it  whistled 
again. 

Then  the  Beggar  swung  his  staff  also,  and  struck,  a  mighty  blow  at  Robin, 

Robin  Hood         wmcn  the  yeoman  turned.     Three  blows  the  Beggar  struck,  yet 

fighteth  with  the   never  one  touched  so  much  as  a  hair  of  Robin's  head.     Then 

stout  Robin  saw  his  chance,  and,  ere  you  could  count  three,  Ric- 

con's  staff  was  over  the  hedge,  and  Riccon  himself  lay  upon  the  green  grass 

with  no  more  motion  than  you  could  find  in  an  empty  pudding- 

Kobin  Hood  J 

avercometh  the        bag. 

"  How  now  !  "  quoth  merry  Robin,  laughing.     "  Wilt  thou  have 
my  hide  or  my  money,  sweet  chuck  ?  "     But  to  this  the  other  answered  never  a 


ROBIN  HOOD   TURNS  BEGGAR.  205 

word.  Then  Robin,  seeing  his  plight,  and  that  he  was  stunned  with  the  blow, 
ran,  still  laughing,  and  brought  the  skin  of  ale  and  poured  some  of  it  on  the 
Beggar's  head  and  some  down  his  throat,  so  that  presently  he  opened  his  eyes 
and  looked  around  as  though  wondering  why  he  lay  upon  his  back. 

Then  Robin,  seeing  that  he  had  somewhat  gathered  the  wits  that  had  just 
been  rapped  out  of  his  head,  said  :  "Now,  good  fellow,  wilt  thou  change  clothes 
with  me,  or  shall  I  have  to  tap  thee  again  ?  Here  are  two  golden  angels  if 
thou  wilt  give  me  freely  all  thy  rags  and  bags  and  thy  cap  and  things.  If  thou 
givest  them  not  freely  I  much  fear  me  I  shall  have  to"  — and  he  looked  up  and 
down  his  staff. 

Then  Riccon  sat  up  and  rubbed  the  bump  on  his  crown.  "  Now,  out  upon 
it !"  quoth  he.  "  I  did  think  to  drub  thee  sweetly,  fellow.  I  know  not  how  it 
is,  but  I  seem,  as  it  were,  to  have  bought  more  beer  than  I  can  drink.  If  I 
must  give  up  my  clothes,  I  must,  but  first  promise  me,  by  thy  word  as  a  true 
yeoman,  that  thou  wilt  take  nought  from  me  but  my  clothes." 

"  I  promise  on  the  word  of  a  true  yeoman,"  quoth  Robin,  thinking  that  the 
fellow  had  a  few  pennies  that  he  would  save. 

Thereupon  the  Beggar  drew  a  little  knife  that  hung  at  his  side,  and,  ripping 
up  the  lining  of  his  coat,  drew  thence  ten  bright  golden  pounds,  ^ 

which  he  laid  upon  the  ground  beside  him  with  a  cunning  wink  at    wits  Robin 
Robin.     "  Now  thou  mayst  have  my  clothes  and  welcome,"  said 
he,  "  and  thou  mightest  have  had  them  in  exchange  for  thine  without  the  cost 
of  a  single  farthing,  far  less  two  golden  angels." 

"  Marry,"  quoth  Robin,  laughing,  "  thou  art  a  sly  fellow,  and  I  tell  thee  truly, 
had  I  known  thou  hadst  so  much  money  by  thee  maybe  thou  mightst  not  have 
carried  it  away,  for  I  warrant  thou  didst  not  come  honestly  by  it." 

Then  each  stripped  off  his  clothes  and  put  on  those  of  the  other,  and  as  lusty 
a  beggar  was  Robin  Hood  as  e'er  you  could  find  of  a  summer's 

•*  Robin  Hood 

day.  But  stout  Riccon  of  Holywell  skipped  and  leaped  and  changes  clothes 
danced  for  joy  of  the  fair  suit  of  Lincoln  green  that  he  had  so  with  the Bessar- 
gotten.  Quoth  he,  "  I  am  a  gay  feathered  bird  now.  Truly,  my  dear  Moll 
Peascod  would  never  know  me  in  this  dress.  Thou  mayst  keep  the  cold  pieces 
of  the  feast,  friend,  for  I  mean  to  live  well  and  lustily  while  my  money  lasts  and 
my  clothes  are  gay." 

So  he  turned  and  left  Robin  and,  crossing  the  stile,  was  gone,  but  Robin 
heard  him  singing  from  beyond  the  hedge  as  he  strode  away  :  — 

"  For  Polly  is  smiling  and  Molly  is  glad 
When  the  beggar  comes  in  at  the  door, 
And  Jack  and  Dick  call  him  a  fine  lusty  lad, 
And  the  hostess  runs  up  a  great  score. 


206  ROBIN  HOOD   TURNS  BEGGAR. 

Then  hey,  Willy  Waddykin, 
Stay,  Billy  Waddykin, 
And  let  the  brown  ale  flow  free,  flow  free, 
The  beggar  's  the  man  for  me." 

Robin  listened  till  the  song  ended  in  the  distance,  then  he  also  crossed  the 
stile  into  the  road,  but  turned  his  toes  away  from  where  the  Beggar  had  gone. 
The  road  led  up  a  gentle  hill  and  up  the  hill  Robin  walked,  a  half  score  or  more 
of  bags  dangling  about  his  legs.  Onward  he  strolled  for  a  long  time,  but  other 
adventure  he  found  not.  The  road  was  bare  of  all  else  but  himself,  as  he  went 
kicking  up  little  clouds  of  dust  at  each  footstep  ;  for  it  was  noontide,  the  most 
peaceful  time  of  all  the  day,  next  to  twilight.  All  the  earth  was  silent  in 'the 
restfulness  of  eating-time  ;  the  plough-horses  stood  in  the  furrow 

Robin  Hood  sets 

forth  as  a  beg-  munching,  with  great  bags  over  their  noses  holding  sweet  food, 
the  ploughman  sat  under  the  hedge  and  the  plough-boy  also,  and 
they,  too,  were  munching,  each  one  holding  a  great  piece  of  bread  in  one  fist 
and  a  great  piece  of  cheese  in  the  other. 

So  Robin,  with  all  the  empty  road  to  himself,  strode  along  whistling  merrily, 
his  bags  and  pouches  bobbing  and  dangling  at  his  thighs.  At  last  he  came  to 
where  a  little  grass-grown  path  left  the  road  and,  passing  through  a  stile  and 
down  a  hill,  led  into  a  little  dell  and  on  across  a  rill  in  the  valley  and  up  the 
hill  on  the  other  side,  till  it  reached  a  windmill  that  stood  on  the  cap  of  the  rise 
where  the  wind  bent  the  trees  in  swaying  motion.  Robin  looked  at  the  spot 
and  liked  it,  and,  for  no  reason  but  that  his  fancy  led  him,  he  took  the  little 
path  and  walked  down  the  grassy  sunny  slope  of  the  open  meadow,  and  so  came 
to  the  little  dingle  and,  ere  he  knew  it,  upon  four  lusty  fellows  that  sat  with 
legs  outstretched  around  a  goodly  feast  spread  upon  the  ground. 

Four  merry  beggars  were  they,  and  each  had  slung  about  his  neck  a  little 
Robin  Hood  com-  board  that  rested  upon  his  breast.  One  board  had  written  upon 
lLffieg{a"sm  h'  "  T  am  blind,"  another,  "  I  am  deaf,"  another,  "  I  am  dumb,"  and 
a  dingle*  the  fourth,  "  Pity  the  lame  one."  But  although  all  these  troubles 

written  upon  the  boards  seemed  so  grievous,  the  four  stout  fellows  sat  around 
feasting  as  merrily  as  though  Cain's  wife  had  never  opened  the  pottle  that  held 
misfortunes,  and  let  them  forth  like  a  cloud  of  flies  to  pester  us. 

The  deaf  man  was  the  first  to  hear  Robin,  for  he  said,  "  Hark,  brothers,  I 
hear  some  one  coming."  And  the  blind  man  was  the  first  to  see  him,  for  he 
said,  "He  is  an  honest  man,  brothers,  and  one  of  like  craft  to  ourselves."  Then 
the  dumb  man  called  to  him  in  a  great  voice  and  said,  "  Welcome,  brother  ; 
come  and  sit  whilst  there  is  still  some  of  the  feast  left  and  a  little  Malmsey  in 
the  pottle."  At  this  the  lame  man,  who  had  taken  off  his  wooden  leg  and  un 
strapped  his  own  leg,  and  was  sitting  with  it  stretched  out  upon  the  grass  so 


ROBIN  HOOD    TURNS  BEGGAR.  207 

as  to  rest  it,  made  room  for  Robin  among  them.     "  We  are  glad  to  see  thee, 
brother,"  said  he,  holding  out  the  flask  of  Malmsey. 

"Marry,"  quoth  Robin,  laughing,  and  weighing  the  flask  in  his  hands  ere  he 
drank,  "  methinks  it  is  no  more  than  seemly  of  you  all  to  be  glad 

J          J  °  Robtn  Hood 

to  see  me,  seeing  that  I  bring  sight  to  the  blind,  speech  to  the    drinketh  with 
dumb,  hearing  to  the  deaf,  and  such  a  lusty  leg  to  a  lame  man.    tiem- 
I  drink  to  your  happiness,  brothers,  as  I  may  not  drink  to  your  health,  seeing 
ye  are  already  hale,  wind  and  limb." 

At  this  all  grinned,  and  the  Blind  beggar,  who  was  the  chief  man  among 
them,  and  was  the  broadest  shouldered  and  most  lusty  rascal  of  all,  smote 
Robin  upon  the  shoulder  swearing  he  was  a  right  merry  wag. 

"  Whence  comest  thou,  lad  ? J>  asked  the  Dumb  man. 

"  Why,"  quoth  Robin.  "  I  came  this  morning  from  sleeping  overnight  in 
Sherwood." 

"  Is  it  even  so  ? "  said  the  Deaf  man.  "  I  would  not  for  all  the  money  we 
four  are  carrying  to  Lincoln  Town  sleep  one  night  in  Sherwood.  If  Robin 
Hood  caught  one  of  our  trade  in  his  woodlands  he  would,  methinks,  clip  his 
ears." 

"  Methinks  he  would,  too,"  quoth  Robin,  laughing.  "But  what  money  is  this 
that  ye  speak  of  ?  " 

Then  up  spake  the  Lame  man  :  "  Our  king,  Peter  of  York,"  said  he,  "  hath 
sent  us  to  Lincoln  with  those  moneys  that "  — 

"  Stay,  brother  Hodge,"  quoth  the  Blind  man,  breaking  into  the  talk  ;  "  I 
would  not  doubt  our  brother  here,  but  bear  in  mind  we  know  him  not.  "  What 
art  thou,  brother  ?  Upright-man,  Jurkman,  Clapper-dudgeon,  Dommerer,  or 
Abram-man  ? " 

At  these  words  Robin  looked  from  one  man  to  the  other  with  mouth  agape. 
"  Truly,"  quoth  he,  "  I  trust  I  am  an  upright  man,  at  least,  I  strive  to  be  ;  but 
I  know  not  what  thou  meanest  by  such  jargon,  brother.  It  were  much  more 
seemly,  methinks,  if  yon  Dumb  man,  who  hath  a  sweet  voice,  would  give  us  a 
song." 

At  these  words  a  silence  fell  on  all,  and  after  a  while  the  Blind  man.  spoke 
again.  Quoth  he,  "Thou  dost  surely  jest  when  thou  sayest  that  thou  dost  not 
understand  such  words.  Answer  me  this  :  Hast  thou  ever  fibbed  a  chouse 
quarrons  in  the  Rome  pad  for  the  loure  in  his  bung  ?  "  * 

"  Now  out  upon  it,"  quoth  Robin  Hood,  testily  ;  "  an  ye  make  sport  of  me 
by  pattering  such  gibberish,  it  will  be  ill  for  you  all,  I  tell  you.  I  have  the  best 
part  of  a  mind  to  crack  the  heads  of  all  four  of  you,  and  would  do  so,  too,  but 

1  /.  f.,  in  old  beggar's  cant,  "  beaten  a  man  or  gallant  upon  the  highway  for  the  money  in  his  purse." 
Dakkar's  English  Villainies. 


208  ROBIN  HOOD   TURNS  BEGGAR. 

for  the  sweet  Malmsey  ye  have  given  me.  Brother,  pass  the  pottle  lest  it 
grow  cold." 

"  But  all  the  four  beggars  leaped  to  their  feet  when  Robin  had  done  speak- 
,.   .          ,.    .   ing,  and  the  Blind  man  snatched  up  a  heavy  knotted  cudgel  that 

The  beggars  find  *•  J 

that  Robin  Hood  lay  beside  him  on  the  grass,  as  did  the  others  likewise.  Then 
is  only  a  cheat.  Robin?  seeing  that  things  were  like  to  go  ill  with  him,  albeit  he 
knew  not  what  all  the  coil  was  about,  leaped  to  his  feet  also,  and,  catching  up 
his  trusty  staff,  clappe  ^  his  back  against  the  tree  and  stood  upon  his  guard 
against  them.  "How,  now!"  cried  he,  twirling  his  staff  betwixt  his  fingers, 
"  would  you  four  stout  fellows  set  upon  one  man  ?  Stand  back,  ye  rascals,  or 
I  will  score  your  pates  till  they  have  as  many  marks  upon  them  as  a  pot-house 
door  !  Are  ye  mad  ?  I  have  done  you  no  harm." 

"  Thou  liest!"  quoth  the  one  who  pretended  to  be  blind,  and  who,  being  the 
The  Blind  man  lustiest  villain,  was  the  leader  of  the  others;  "thou  liest!  for  thou 
faiieth  tipon  hast  come  amongst  us  as  a  vile  spy.  But  thine  ears  have  heard 

Robin,  but  get-  f 

tetk  the  worst  of  too  much  tor  thy  body  s  good,  and  thou  goest  not  forth  from  this 
place  unless  thou  goest  feet  foremost,  for  this  day  thou  shalt  die  ! 
Come,  brothers,  all  together  !  Down  with  him  ! "  Then,  whirling  up  his  cud 
gel,  he  rushed  upon  Robin  as  an  angry  bull  rushes  upon  a  red  rag.  But  Robin 
was  ready  for  any  happening.  "  Crick  !  Crack  !  "  he  struck  two  blows  as  quick 
as  wink,  and  down  went  the  Blind  man,  rolling  over  and  over  upon  the  grass. 

At  this  the  others  bore  back  and  stood  at  a  little  distance  scowling  upon 
Robin.  "  Come  on,  ye  scum  !  "  cried  he,  merrily.  "  Here  be  cakes  and  ale  for 
all.  Now,  who  will  be  next  served  ? " 

To  this  speech  the  beggars  answered  never  a  word,  but  they  looked  at  Robin 
as  great  Blunderbore  looked  upon  stout  Jack,  the  slayer  of  giants,  as  though 
they  would  fain  eat  him,  body  and  bones  ;  nevertheless,  they  did  not  care  to 
come  nigher  to  him  and  his  terrible  staff.  Then,  seeing  them  so  hesitate,  Robin 
RMn  Hood  °^  a  sudden  leaped  upon  them,  striking  even  as  he  leaped.  Down 
smiteth  down  the  went  the  Dumb  man,  and  away  flew  his  cudgel  from  his  hand 

Dumb  man  and  .  ,  ,  ,  , 

the  others  take  as  he  fell.  At  this  the  others  ducked  to  avoid  another  blow, 
to  their  keels.  then,  taking  to  their  heels,  scampered,  the  one  one  way  and  the 
other  the  other,  as  though  they  had  the  west  wind's  boots  upon  their  feet. 
Robin  looked  after  them,  laughing,  and  thought  that  never  had  he  seen  so  fleet 
a  runner  as  the  Lame  man  ;  but  neither  of  the  beggars  stopped  nor  turned 
around,  for  each  felt  in  his  mind  the  wind  of  Robin's  cudgel  about  his  ears. 

Then  Robin  turned  to  the  two  stout  knaves  lying  upon  the  ground.  Quoth 
he,  "  These  fellows  spake  somewhat  about  certain  moneys  they  were  taking  to 
Lincoln  ;  methinks  I  may  find  it  upon  this  stout  blind  fellow,  who  hath  as  keen 
sight  as  e'er  a  trained  woodsman  in  Nottingham  or  Yorkshire.  It  were  a  pity 


ROBIN  HOOD   TURNS  BEGGAR.  209 

to  let  sound  money  stay  in  the  pockets  of  such  thieving  knaves."  So  saying 
he  stooped  over  the  burly  rascal  and  searched  among  his  rags  and  tatters,  till 
presently  his  ringers  felt  a  leathern  pouch  slung  around  his  body  beneath  his 
patched  and  tattered  coat.  This  he  stripped  away,  and,  weighing  it  in  his 
hands,  bethought  himself  that  it  was  mightily  heavy.  "  It  were  a  Robin  Hood 
sweet  thing,"  said  he  to  himself,  "  if  this  were  filled  with  gold  $^ 
instead  of  copper  pence."  Then,  sitting  down  upon  the  grass,  he  blind  rogue. 
opened  the  pocket  and  looked  into  it.  There  he  found  four  round  rolls  wrapped 
up  in  dressed  sheepskin  ;  one  of  these  rolls  he  opened  ;  then  his  mouth  gaped 
and  his  eyes  stared,  I  wot,  as  though  they  would  never  close  again,  for  what 
did  he  see  but  fifty  pounds  of  bright  golden  money  !  He  opened  the  other 
pockets  and  found  in  each  one  the  same,  fifty  bright  new-stamped  golden 
pounds.  Quoth  Robin,  "  I  have  oft  heard  that  the  Beggars'  Guild  was  over 
rich,  but  never  did  I  think  that  they  sent  such  sums  as  this  to  their  treasury. 
I  shall  take  it  with  me  ;  for  it  will  be  better  used  for  charity  and  the  good  of 
my  merry  band  than  in  the  enriching  of  such  knaves  as  these."  So  saying  he 
rolled  up  the  money  in  the  sheepskin  again,  and  putting  it  back  in  the  purse, 
he  thrust  the  pouch  into  his  own  bosom.  Then  taking  up  the  flask  of  Malmsey 
he  held  it  toward  the  two  fellows  lying  on  the  grass,  and  quoth  Robin  Hood 
he,  "  Sweet  friends,  I  drink  your  health  and  thank  you  dearly  for  *J£2rt&& 
what  ye  have  so  kindly  given  me  this  day,  and  so  I  wish  you  upon  his  way. 
good  den."  Then,  taking  up  his  staff,  he  left  the  spot  and  went  merrily  upon 
his  way. 

But  when  the  two  stout  beggars  that  had  been  rapped  upon  the  head  roused 
themselves  and  sat  up,  and  when  the  others  had  gotten  over  their  fright  and 
come  back,  they  were  as  sad  and  woebegone  as  four  frogs  in  dry  weather,  for  two 
of  them  had  cracked  crowns,  their  Malmsey  was  all  gone,  and  they  had  not  so 
much  as  a  farthing  to  cross  their  palms  withal.  As  for  the  treasury  of  the 
Beggars'  Guild  at  the  Inn  of  the  Beggar's  Bush,  near  Lincoln  Town,  it  was  two 
hundred  pounds  poorer  than  it  would  have  been  had  bold  Robin  not  met  the 
blind  man,  the  deaf  man,  the  dumb  man,  and  the  lame  man  nigh  to  the  high 
road  that  led  to  Blyth. 

But  after  Robin  left  the  little  dell  he  strode  along  merrily,  singing  as  he 
went  ;  and  so  blithe  was  he  and  such  a  stout  beggar,  and,  withal,  so  fresh  and 
clean,  that  every  merry  lass  he  met  had  a  sweet  word  for  him  and  felt  no  fear, 
whilst  the  very  dogs,  that  most  times  hate  the  sight  of  a  beggar,  snuffed  at  his 
legs  in  friendly  wise  and  wagged  their  tails  pleasantly ;  for  dogs  know  an  hon 
est  man  by  his  smell,  and  an  honest  man  Robin  was  —  in  his  own  way. 

Thus  he  went  along  till  at  last  he  had  come  to  the  wayside  cross  nigh  Oiler- 
ton,  and,  being  somewhat  tired,  he  sat  him  down  to  rest  upon  the  grassy  bank  in 


210  ROBIN  HOOD   TURNS  BEGGAR. 

front  of  it.  "  It  groweth  nigh  time,"  quoth  he  to  himself,  "  that  I  were  getting 
Robin  Hood  Dac^  agam  to  Sherwood  ;  yet  it  would  please  me  well  to  have  one 
rests  at  the  cross  more  merry  adventure  ere  I  go  back  again  to  my  jolly  band." 

So  he  looked  up  the  road  and  down  the  road  to  see  who  might 
come,  until  at  last  he  saw  some  one  drawing  near,  riding  upon  a  horse.  When 

the  traveller  came  nigh  enough  for  him  to  see  him  well,  Robin 

fie  seeln.  a 

strange  man  laughed,  for  a  strange  enough  figure  he  cut.  He  was  a  thin,  wea 
zened  man,  and,  to  look  upon  him,  you  could  not  tell  whether  he 
was  thirty  years  old  or  sixty,  so  dried  up  was  he  even  to  skin  and  bone.  As 
for  the  nag,  it  was  as  thin  as  the  rider,  and  both  looked  as  though  they  had 
been  baked  in  Mother  Huddle's  Oven,  where  folk  are  dried  up  so  that  they  live 
forever.  The  poor  nag's  neck  bent  down  instead  of  up,  as  most  horses'  do,  and 
his  mane  was  as  ragged  as  though  the  mice  had  made  nests  in  it  ;  his  backbone 
stood  up  sharp  and  jagged,  like  a  new-turned  furrow  when  the  plough  first 
passes,  and  his  ribs  showed  beneath  his  skin  like  the  hoops  on  a  barrel  of  five- 
year-old  ale.  Thus  the  horse  came  hobbling  along,  and  at  every  step  the  rider 
popped  up  and  down  in  his  saddle,  so  that  his  head  bobbed  and  wagged  upon 
his  lean  neck  all  in  time  to  the  motion  of  the  nag.  At  this  sight  merry  Robin 
laughed  till  the  tears  stood  on  his  cheeks,  for,  as  though  to  make  the  sight  still 
more  droll,  the  rider  wore  great  clogs  upon  his  feet  instead  of  shoon,  the  soles 
whereof  were  made  of  wood  half  a  palm's  breadth  in  thickness,  and  studded  all 
over  with  great  nails. 

But  although  Robin  laughed,  he  knew  the  wayfarer  to  be  a  certain  rich  corn 
engrosser  of  Worksop,  who  more  than  once  had  bought  all  the  grain  in  the 
countryside  and  held  it  till  it  reached  even  famine  prices,  thus  making  much 
money  from  the  needs  of  poor  people,  and  for  this  he  was  hated  far  and  near 
by  every  one  that  knew  aught  of  him. 

Quoth  Robin  to  himself,  when  he  saw  who  it  was  that  came,  "  Oho,  my  thiev 
ing  magpie  !  It  is  thou,  is  it  ?  Now  I  would  that  I  could  pluck  thee  bare,  even 
to  the  naked  skin  !  But  thou  art  so  sly  that  I  misdoubt  finding  aught  of  thy 
ill-gotten  gains  upon  thee  so  nigh  to  Sherwood.  Nevertheless,  I  will  see  what 
can  be  done  ;  for,  as  Gaffer  Swanthold  says,  '  If  Ned  never  tries,  Ned  never 
does.'  " 

So,  after  a  while,  the  Corn  Engrosser  came  riding  up  to  where  Robin  sat  ; 
whereupon  merry  Robin  stepped  straightway  forth,  in  all  his  rags  and  tatters, 
Robin  ffood  nis  baSs  and  pouches  dangling  about  him,  and  laid  his  hand  upon 
stops  the  Corn  the  horse's  bridle-rein,  calling  upon  the  other  to  stop. 

'a  far-  "  Who  art  thou,  fellow,  that  doth  dare  to  stop  me  thus  upon  the 


King's  highway  ?  "  said  the  lean  man,  in  a  dry,  sour  voice. 
"  Pity  a  poor  beggar,"  quoth  Robin.     "  Give  me  but  a  farthing  to  buy  me  a 
piece  of  bread." 


by-ih 

Crofj. 
nigh 

Oiler- 


ROBIN  HOOD   TURNS  BEGGAR.  213 

'•  Now,  out  upon  thee  !  "  snarled  the  other.  "  Such  sturdy  rogues  as  thou  art 
are  better  safe  in  the  prisons  or  dancing  upon  nothing,  with  a  hempen  collar 
about  the  neck,  than  strolling  the  highways  so  freely." 

"  Tut,"  quoth  Robin,  "  how  thou  talkest !  Thou  and  I  are  brothers,  man. 
Do  we  not  both  take  from  the  poor  people  that  which  they  can  ill  spare  ?  Do 
we  not  make  our  livings  by  doing  nought  of  any  good  ?  Do  we  not  both  live 
without  touching  palm  to  honest  work?  Have  we  either  of  us  ever  rubbed 
thumbs  over  honestly-gained  farthings  ?  Go  to !  We  are  brothers,  I  say ; 
only  thou  art  rich  and  I  am  poor ;  wherefore,  I  prythee  once  more,  give  me  a 
penny." 

"  Dost  thou  prate  so  to  me,  sirrah  ?  "  cried  the  Corn  Engrosser,  in  a  rage. 
"  Now  I  will  have  thee  soundly  whipped  if  ever  I  catch  thee  in  any  town 
where  the  law  can  lay  hold  of  thee  !  As  for  giving  thee  a  penny,  I  swear  to 
thee  that  I  have  not  so  much  as  a  single  groat  in  my  purse.  Were  Robin 
Hood  himself  to  take  me,  he  might  search  me  from  crown  to  heel  without  find 
ing  the  smallest  piece  of  money  upon  me.  I  trust  I  am  too  sly  to  travel  so 
nigh  to  Sherwood  with  money  in  my  pouch,  and  that  thief  at  large  in  the 
woods." 

Then  merry  Robin  looked  up  and  down,  as  if  to  see  that  there  was  no  one 
nigh,  and  then,  coming  close  to  the  Corn  Engrosser,  he  stood  on  tiptoe  and 
spake  in  his  ear :  "  Thinkest  thou  in  sooth  that  I  am  a  beggar,  as  I  seem  to 
be  ?  Look  upon  me.  There  is  not  a  grain  of  dirt  upon  my  hands  or  my  face 
or  my  body  ;  didst  thou  ever  see  a  beggar  so  ?  I  tell  thee  I  am  as  honest  a 
man  as  thou  art.  Look,  friend."  Here  he  took  the  purse  of  Koi,in  ff00d 
money  from  his  breast,  and  showed  to  the  dazzled  eyes  of  the  ^veth  strange 

J  J  things  to  the 

Corn  Engrosser  the  bright  golden  pieces.  "  Friend,  these  rags  Com  Engrosser. 
serve  but  to  hide  an  honest  rich  man  from  the  eyes  of  Robin  Hood." 

"  Put  up  thy  money,  lad,"  cried  the  other,  quickly.  "  Art  thou  a  fool,  to  trust 
to  beggar's  rags  to  shield  thee  from  Robin  Hood  ?  If  he  caught  thee  he  would 
strip  thee  to  the  skin,  for  he  hates  a  lusty  beggar  as  he  doth  a  fat  priest  or 
those  of  my  kind." 

"Is  it  indeed  so?"  quoth  Robin.  "Had  I  known  this,  mayhap  I  had  not 
come  hereabouts  in  this  garb.  But  I  must  go  forward  now,  as  much  depends 
upon  my  journeying.  Where  goest  thou,  friend  ? " 

"I  go  to  Grantham,"  said  the  Corn  Engrosser;  "but  I  shall  lodge  to-night 
at  Newark ;  if  I  can  get  so  far  upon  my  way." 

"  Why,  I  myself  am  on  the  way  to  Newark,"  quoth  merry  Robin  ;  "  so  that, 
as  two  honest  men  are  better  than  one  in  roads  beset  by  such  a  fellow  as  this 
Robin  Hood,  I  will  jog  along  with  thee,  if  thou  hast  no  dislike  to  my  company." 

"  Why,  as  thou  art  an  honest  fellow  and  a  rich  fellow,"  said  the  Corn  En- 


214  ROBIN  HOOD   TURNS  BEGGAR. 

grosser,  "  I  mind  not  thy  company  ;  but,  in  sooth,  I  have  no  great  fondness  for 
beggars." 

"  Then  forward,"  quoth  Robin,  "  for  the  day  wanes  and  it  will  be  dark  ere  we 
Robin  Hood  and  reach  Newark."  So  off  they  went,  the  lean  horse  hobbling  along 
erttfwrlfrwM/'  as  Before,  and  Robin  running  beside,  albeit  he  was  so  quaking 
along  together.  with  laughter  within  him  that  he  could  hardly  stand  ;  yet  he  dared 
not  laugh  aloud,  lest  the  Corn  Engrosser  should  suspect  something.  So  they 
travelled  along  till  they  reached  a  hill  just  on  the  outskirts  of  Sherwood.  Here 
the  lean  man  checked  his  lean  horse  into  a  walk,  for  the  road  was  steep,  and  he 
wished  to  save  his  nag's  strength,  having  far  to  go  ere  he  reached  Newark. 
Then  he  turned  in  his  saddle  and  spake  to  Robin  again,  for  the  first  time  since 
they  had  left  the  cross.  "  Here  is  thy  greatest  danger,  friend,"  said  he,  "  for 
here  we  are  nighest  to  that  vile  thief,  Robin  Hood,  and  the  place  where  he 
dwells.  Beyond  this  we  come  again  to  the  open  honest  country,  and  so  are 
more  safe  in  our  journeying." 

"Alas!"  quoth  Robin,  "I  would  that  I  had  as  little  money  by  me  as  thou 
hast,  for  this  day  I  fear  that  Robin  Hood  will  get  every  groat  of  my  wealth." 

Then  the  other  looked  at  Robin  and  winked  cunningly.  Quoth  he,  "  I  tell 
thee,  friend,  that  I  have  nigh  as  much  by  me  as  thou  hast,  but  it  is  hidden  so 
that,  never  a  knave  in  Sherwood  could  find  it." 

"  Thou  dost  surely  jest,"  quoth  Robin.  "  How  could  one  hide  so  much  as 
two  hundred  pounds  upon  his  person  ?  " 

"  Now,  as  thou  art  so  honest  a  fellow,  and,  withal,  so  much  younger  than  I 
am,  I  will  tell  thee  that  which  I  have  told  to  no  man  in  all  the  world  before, 
and  thus  thou  mayst  learn  never  again  to  do  such  a  foolish  thing  as  to  trust  to 
beggar's  garb  to  guard  thee  against  Robin  Hood.  Seest  thou  these  clogs  upon 
my  feet  ? " 

"Yea,"  quoth  Robin,  laughing;  "truly,  they  are  large  enough  for  any  man 
to  see,  even  were  his  sight  as  foggy  as  that  of  Peter  Patter,  who  never  could 
see  when  it  was  time  to  go  to  work." 

The  Com  En-  " Peace,  friend,"  said  the  Corn  Engrosser,  "for  this  is  no  matter 
grosser  telieth  £or  jestjncr  The  soles  of  these  clogs  are  not  what  they  seem  to 

Kooin   Hood  a  .  . 

great  secret.  be.  for  each  one  is  a  sweet  little  box  ;-and  by  twisting  the  second 
nail  from  the  toe,  the  upper  of  the  shoe  and  part  of  the  sole  lifts  up  like  a  lid, 
and  in  the  spaces  within  are  fourscore  and  ten  bright  golden  pounds  in  each 
shoe,  all  wrapped  in  hair,  to  keep  them  from  clinking  and  so  telling  tales  of 
themselves." 

When  the  Corn  Engrosser  had  told  this,  Robin  broke  into  a  roar  of  laugh 
ter,  and,  laying  his  hands  upon  the  bridle-rein,  stopped  the  sad-looking  nag. 
"  Stay,  good  friend,"  quoth  he,  between  bursts  of  merriment  ;  "  thou  art  the 


ROBIN  HOOD   TURNS  BEGGAR.  215 

slyest  old  fox  that  e'er  I  saw  in  all  my  life  !  —  In  the  soles  of  his  shoon,  quotha  ! 
—  If  ever  I  trust  a  poor  seeming  man  again,  shave  my  head  and  paint  it  blue  ! 
A  corn  factor,  a  horse  jockey,  an  estate  agent,  and  a  jackdaw  for  cunningness, 
say  I ! "  And  he  laughed  again  till  he  shook  in  his  shoes  with  mirth. 

All  this  time  the  Corn  Engrosser  had  been  staring  at  Robin,  his  mouth  agape 
with  wonder.  "Art  thou  mad,"  quoth  he,  "to  talk  in  this  way,  so  loud  and  in 
such  a  place  ?  Let  us  forward,  and  save  thy  mirth  till  we  are  safe  and  sound 
at  Newark." 

"  Nay,"  quoth  Robin,  the  tears  of  merriment  wet  on  his  cheeks,  "  on  second 
thoughts  I  go  no  farther  than  here,  for  I  have  good  friends  hereabouts.  Thou 
mayst  go  forward  if  thou  dost  list,  thou  sweet  pretty  fellow,  but  thou  must  go 
forward  barefoot,  for  I  am  afraid  that  thy  shoon  must  be  left  behind.  Off  with 
them,  friend,  for  I  tell  thee  I  have  taken  a  great  fancy  to  them." 

At  these  words  the  corn  factor  grew  pale  as  a  linen  napkin.  "  Who  art  thou 
that  talkest  so  ? "  said  he. 

Then  merry  Robin  laughed  again,  and  quoth  he,  "  Men  hereabouts  call  me 
Robin  Hood  ;  so,  sweet  friend,  thou  hadst  best  do  my  bidding  and  give  me  thy 
shoes,  wherefore  hasten,  I  prythee,  or  else  thou  wilt  not  get  to  fair  Newark 
Town  till  after  dark." 

At  the  sound  of  the  name  of  Robin  Hood  the  corn  factor  quaked  with  fear, 
so  that  he  had  to  seize  his  horse  by  the  mane  to  save  himself  from  falling  off  its 
back.  Then  straightway,  and  without  more  words,  he  stripped  off  his  clogs 
and  let  them  fall  upon  the  road.  Robin,  still  holding  the  bridle-rein,  stooped 
and  picked  them  up ;  then  he  said,  "  Sweet  friend,  I  am  used  to  ask  those  that 
I  have  dealings  with  to  come  and  feast  at  Sherwood  with  me.  I  will  not  ask 
thee,  because  of  our  pleasant  journey  together ;  for  I  tell  thee  there  be  those 
in  Sherwood  that  would  not  be  so  gentle  with  thee  as  I  have  been.  The  name 
of  Corn  Engrosser  leaves  a  nasty  taste  upon  the  tongue  of  all  honest  men. 
Take  a  fool's  advice  of  me  and  come  no  more  so  nigh  to  Sher-  Rgbin  Hood 
wood,  or  mayhap  some  day  thou  mayst  of  a  sudden  find  a  cloth-  g°flh  no  farther, 
yard  shaft  betwixt  thy  ribs.  So,  with  this,  I  give  thee  good  den."  grosser  traveiuth 
Hereupon  he  clapped  his  hand  to  the  horse's  flank  and  off  went  omoard  barefoot. 
nag  and  rider.  But  the  man's  face  was  all  bedewed  with  the  sweat  of  fright, 
and  never  again,  I  wot,  was  he  found  so  close  to  Sherwood  Forest  as  he  had 
been  this  day. 

Robin  stood  and  looked  after  him,  and,  when  he  was  fairly  gone,  turned, 
laughing,  and  entered  the  forest  carrying  the  shoes  in  his  hand. 

That  night  in  sweet  Sherwood  the  red  fires  glowed  brightly  in  wavering  light 
on  tree  and  bush,  and  all  around  sat  or  lay  the  stout  fellows  of  the  band  to 


2l6 


ROBIN  HOOD   TURNS  BEGGAR. 


of  their  merry 
adventures  to 
those  in  Sher 
wood. 


hear  Robin  Hood  and   Little  John  tell   their  adventures.      First  Little  John 
began  and  told  about  his  meeting  with  the  three  lasses,  amid 

Robin  Hood  and  . 

Little  John  tell  great  shouts  of  laughter,  for  he  was  quaint  of  speech,  and  told  his 
doings  merrily.  Then  Robin  told  of  his  meeting  the  stout  beg 
gar,  and  what  befell  behind  the  hedge  under  the  lime  tree. 
Then  Little  John  told  of  meeting  the  good  fellows  at  the  inn,  and 
Robin  told  of  his  adventure  with  the  four  beggars,  and  showed  the  money 
he  had  taken  from  them.  Last  of  all,  Little  John  told  how  he  had  prayed 
to  Saint  Dunstan  with  the  Gray  Friars,  and  showed  the  gold  that  the  Saint 
had  sent  him.  This  Robin  matched  with  his  story  of  meeting  the  Corn  En 
grosser  at  the  cross  near  Ollerton,  and  held  up  the  shoes  that  he  had  taken 
from  the  lean  man.  All  listened  closely,  and  again  and  again  the  woods  rang 
with  shouts  of  laughter. 

When  all  was  told,  Friar  Tuck  spoke  up,  "  Good  master,"  said  he,  "  thou  hast 
Friar  Tuck  and  had  a  pretty  time,  but  still  I  hold  to  my  saying,  that  the  life  of 
^ildli/erenty  *"  the  barefoot  friar  is  the  merrier  of  the  two." 

minds.  "  Nay,"  quoth  Will  Stutely,  "  I  hold  with  our  master,  that  he 

hath  had  the  pleasanter  doings  of  the  two,  for  he  hath  had  two  stout  bouts  at 
quarterstaff  this  day." 

So  some  of  the  band  held  with  Robin  Hood  and  some  with  Little  John.  As 
for  me,  I  think  —  But  I  leave  it  with  you  to  say  for  yourselves  which  you 
hold  with. 

After  you  have  settled  the  matter  in  your  minds,  we  will  see  how  merry 
Robin  went  to  famous  London  Town,  and  how  he  shot  with  the  long  bow  before 
Queen  Eleanor  ;  likewise  we  will  hear  of  the  adventures  that  befell  him  there 
after  ;  so  listen  to  what  follows. 


ALLAN-A-DALE  •  SINGETH-  BE= 

FORE'OVR-GOOD-QVEEN 
EANOR- 


M 


•/"\DCCCXXCJll' 


Young.RlCHARD  -PARTINCTON-  comcfh-  to-  feck 


PART   SEVENTH. 

/«  which  it  is  told  how  Queen  Eleanor  sent  for  Robin  Hood  to  come 
to  the  Court  at  famous  London  Town,  and  how  Robin  Hood  came 
at  her  bidding.  Likewise,  it  is  told  how  King  Henry  chased  Robin 
through  the  land,  yet  caught  him  not. 

I. 

Robin  and  Three  of  his  Merry  Men  shoot  be 
fore  Queen  Eleanor  in  Finsbury  Fields. 


HE  high-road  stretched  white  and  dusty  in  the  hot  summer 
afternoon  sun,  and  the  trees  stood  motionless  along  the 
roadside.    All  across  the  meadow  lands  the  hot  air  danced 
and  quivered,  and  in  the  limpid  waters  of  the  lowland 
brook,  spanned  by  a  little  stone  bridge,  the  fish  hung 
motionless  above  the  yellow  gravel,  and  the  dragon-fly 
sat  quite   still,  perched  upon  the  sharp  tip  of  a  spike 
of  the  rushes,  with  its  wings  glistening  in  the  sun. 
Along  the  road  a  youth  came  riding  upon  a  fair  milk-white  barb,  and  the  folk 
that  he  passed  stopped  and  turned  and  looked  after  him,  for  never    Richard  Par- 
had  so  lovely  a  lad  or  one  so  gayly  clad  been  seen  in  Netting-   tington  cometh  to 

.  .      -  __  .  ,  ,  .  Shenvood  upon 

ham  before.     He  could  not  have  been  more  than  sixteen  years    the  bidding  of 
of  age,  and  was  as  fair  as  any  maiden.     His  long  yellow  hair    Queen 


220      ROBIN  AND  HIS  MEN  SHOOT  BEFORE  QUEEN  ELEANOR. 

flowed  behind  him  as  he  rode  along,  all  clad  in  silk  and  velvet,  with  jewels  flash 
ing  and  dagger  jingling  against  the  pommel  of  the  saddle.  Thus  came  the 
Queen's  Page,  young  Richard  Partington,  from  famous  London  Town  down 
into  Nottinghamshire,  upon  her  majesty's  bidding,  to  seek  Robin  Hood  in  Sher 
wood  Forest. 

The  road  was  hot  and  dusty  and  his  journey  had  been  long,  for  that  day  he 
had  come  all  the  way  from  Leicester  Town,  a  good  twenty  miles  and  more ; 
Kichard  Par-  wherefore  young  Partington  was  right  glad  when  he  saw  before 

^ihfmueToar  him  a  sweet  little  inn»  a11  shady  and  c°o1  beneath  the  trees,  in 
/««•  front  of  the  door  of  which  a  sign  hung  pendant,  bearing  the  picture 

of  a  Blue  Boar.  Here  he  drew  rein  and  called  loudly  for  a  pottle  of  Rhenish 
wine  to  be  brought  him,  for  stout  country  ale  was  too  coarse  a  drink  for  this 
young  gentleman.  Five  lusty  fellows  sat  upon  the  bench  beneath  the  pleasant 
shade  of  the  wide-spreading  oak  in  front  of  the  inn  door,  drinking  ale  and  beer, 
and  all  stared  amain  at  this  fair  and  gallant  lad.  Two  of  the  stoutest  of  them 
were  clothed  in  Lincoln  green,  and  a  great  heavy  oaken  staff  leaned  against  the 
gnarled  oak  tree  trunk  beside  each  fellow. 

The  landlord  came  and  brought  a  pottle  of  wine  and  a  long  narrow  glass 
upon  a  salver,  which  he  held  up  to  the  Page  as  he  sat  upon  his  horse.  Young 
Partington  poured  forth  the  bright  yellow  wine,  and  holding  the  glass  aloft, 
cried,  "  Here  is  to  the  health  and  long  happiness  of  my  royal  mistress  the  noble 
Queen  Eleanor  ;  and  may  my  journey  and  her  desirings  soon  have  end,  and 
I  find  a  certain  stout  yeoman  men  call  Robin  Hood." 

At  these  words  all  stared,  but  presently  the  two  stout  yeomen  in  Lincoln 
The  Pa%e  is  green  began  whispering  together.  Then  one  of  the  two,  whom 
spoken  to  by  two  partington  thought  to  be  the  tallest  and  stoutest  fellow  he  had 

yeomen  in  Ltn- 

coin  green.  ever  beheld,  spoke  up  and  said,  "What  seekest  thou  ot  Robin 

Hood,  Sir  Page  ?  and  what  does  our  good  Queen  Eleanor  wish  of  him  ?  I  ask 
this  of  thee,  not  foolishly,  but  with  reason,  for  I  know  somewhat  of  this  stout 
yeoman." 

"  An  thou  knowest  aught  of  him,  good  fellow,"  said  young  Partington,  "  thou 
wilt  do  great  service  to  him  and  great  pleasure  to  our  royal  Queen  by  aiding 
me  to  find  him." 

Then  up  spake  the  other  yeoman,  who  was  a  handsome  fellow  with  sunburnt 
face  and  nut-brown,  curling  hair,  "  Thou  hast  an  honest  look,  Sir  Page,  and  our 
Queen  is  kind  and  true  to  all  stout  yeomen.  Methinks  I  and  my  friend  here 
might  safely  guide  thee  to  Robin  Hood,  for  we  know  where  he  may  be  found. 
Yet  I  tell  thee  plainly,  we  would  not  for  all  merry  England  have  aught  of  harm 
befall  him." 

"  Set  thy  mind  at  ease  ;  I  bring  nought  of  ill  with  me,"  quoth  Richard  Par- 


ROBIN  AND  HIS  MEN  SHOOT  BEFORE  QUEEN  ELEANOR.      221 

tington.     "  I  bring  a  kind  message  to  him  from  our  Queen  ;  therefore  an  ye 
know  where  he  is  to  be  found,  I  pray  you  to  guide  me  thither." 

Then  the  two  yeomen  looked  at  one  another  again,  and  the  tall  man  said, 
"  Surely  it  were  safe  to  do  this  thing,  Will  ;  "  whereat  the  other 

11     i        T-L  1.^1-  i  ^i.      ^   11  -j    <mr        The  two  yeomen 

nodded.     Thereupon  both  arose,  and  the  tall  yeoman  said,  "  We  guide  young 
think  thou  art  true,  Sir  Page,  and  meanest  no  harm,  therefore  we    ^BrtwI/ssEr. 
will  guide  thee  to  Robin  Hood  as  thou  dost  wish."  wood  Forest  and 

„,,          T,      ..  -jr.-  j    >.u  r          to  Robin  Hood. 

Then  Partmgton  paid  his  score,  and  the  yeomen  coming  for 
ward,  they  straightway  departed  upon  their  way. 

Under  the  greenwood  tree,  in  the  cool  shade  that  spread  all  around  upon  the 
sward,  with  flickering  lights  here  and  there,  Robin  Hood  and  many  of  his  band 
lay  upon  the  soft  green  grass,  whilst  Allan  a  Dale  sang  and  played  upon  his 
sweetly-sounding  harp.  All  listened  in  silence,  for  young  Allan's  singing  was 
one  of  the  greatest  joys  in  all  the  world  to  them  ;  but  as  they  so  listened  there 
came  of  a  sudden  a  sound  of  horse's  feet,  and  presently  Little  John  and  Will 
Stutely  came  forth  from  the  forest  path  into  the  open  glade,  young  Richard 
Partington  riding  between  them  upon  his  milk-white  horse.  The  three  came 
toward  where  Robin  Hood  sat,  all  the  band  staring  with  might  and  main,  for 
never  had  they  seen  so  gay  a  sight  as  this  young  Page,  nor  one 

•11        i-,-          -11  i        ,  i         i-.  .    .  T-,  The  Queen's 

so  richly  clad  in  silks  and  velvets  and  gold  and  jewels.     Then    Page  cometh  be- 
Robin  Hood  arose  and  stepped  forth  to  meet  him,  and  Partington  ^jSlSiJfc* 
leaped  from  his  horse,  and  doffing  his  cap  of  crimson  velvet,  met    majesty*  bid- 

T-»    i  •  i  dins;. 

Robin  as  he  came. 

"  Now,  welcome  !  "  cried  Robin.  "  Now,  welcome,  fair  youth  ;  and  tell  me, 
I  prythee,  what  bringeth  one  of  so  fair  a  presence  and  clad  in  such  noble  garb 
to  our  poor  forest  of  Sherwood  ?  " 

Then  young  Partington  said:  "If  I  err  not,  thou  art  the  famous  Robin  Hood, 
and  these  thy  stout  band  of  outlawed  yeomen.  To  thee  I  bring  greeting  from 
our  noble  Queen  Eleanor.  Oft  hath  she  heard  thee  spoken  of  and  thy  merry 
doings  hereabouts,  and  fain  would  she  behold  thy  face  ;  therefore  she  bids  me 
tell  thee  that  if  thou  wilt  presently  come  to  London  Town,  she  will  do  all  in 
her  power  to  guard  thee  against  harm,  and  will  send  thee  back  safe  to  Sher 
wood  Forest  again.  Four  days  hence,  in  Finsbury  Fields,  our  good  King 
Henry,  of  great  renown,  holdeth  a  grand  shooting  match,  and  all  the  most 
famous  archers  of  merry  England  will  be  thereat.  Our  Queen  would  fain  see 
thee  strive  with  these,  knowing  that  if  thou  wilt  come  thou  wilt,  with  little 
doubt,  carry  off  the  prize.  Therefore  she  hath  sent  me  with  this  greeting,  and 
furthermore  sends  thee,  as  a  sign  of  great  good  will,  this  golden  ring  from  off 
her  own  fair  thumb,  which  I  give  herewith  into  thy  hands." 


222      ROBIN  AND  HIS  MEN  SHOOT  BEFORE  QUEEN  ELEANOR. 

Then  Robin  Hood  bowed  his  head,  and  taking  the  ring  kissed  it  right  loyally, 
and  then  slipped  it  upon  his  little  finger.  Quoth  he,  "  Sooner  would  I  lose  my 
life  than  this  ring  ;  and  ere  it  departs  from  me,  my  hand  shall  be  cold  in  death 
or  stricken  off  at  the  wrist.  Fair  Sir  Page,  I  will  do  our  Queen's  bidding,  and 
will  presently  hie  with  thee  to  London ;  but,  ere  we  go,  I  will  feast  thee  here  in 
the  woodlands  with  the  very  best  we  have." 

"  It  may  not  be,"  said  the  Page  ;  "  we  have  no  time  to  tarry,  therefore  get 
thyself  ready  straightway  ;  and  if  there  be  any  of  thy  band  that  thou  wouldst 
take  with  thee,  our  Queen  bids  me  say  that  she  will  make  them  right  welcome 
likewise." 

"  Truly,  thou  art  right,"  quoth  Robin,  "  and  we  have  but  short  time  to  stay  ; 
Robin  Hood  therefore  I  will  get  me  ready  presently.  I  will  choose  three  of 
chooseth  three  of  my  men,  only,  to  go  with  me,  and  these  three  shall  be  Little  John, 
witkhimtT  mine  own  true  right-hand  man,  Will  Scarlet,  my  cousin,  and  Allan 
London  Town.  a  DaiCj  my  minstrel.  Go,  lads,  and  get  ye  ready  straightway,  and 
we  will  presently  off  with  all  speed  that  we  may.  Thou,  Will  Stutely,  shall  be 
the  chief  of  the  band  while  I  am  gone." 

Then  Little  John  and  Will  Scarlet  and  Allan  a  Dale  ran  leaping,  full  of  joy, 
to  make  themselves  ready,  whilst  Robin  also  prepared  himself  for  the  journey. 
After  a  while  they  all  four  came  forth,  and  a  right  fair  sight  they  made,  for 
Robin  was  clad  in  blue  from  head  to  foot,  and  Little  John  and  Will  Scarlet  in 
good  Lincoln  green,  and  as  for  Allan  a  Dale,  he  was  dressed  in  scarlet  from 
the  crown  of  his  head  to  the  toes  of  his  pointed  shoes.  Each  man  wore  be- 
The  Page  and  neath  his  cap  a  little  head-covering  of  burnished  steel  set  with 
^avT^ie^en-  rrvets  °f  g°ld,  and  underneath  his  jerkin  a  coat  of  linked  mail,  as 
wood  glade.  fine  as  carded  wool,  yet  so  tough  that  no  arrow  could  pierce  it. 
Then,  seeing  all  were  ready,  young  Partington  mounted  his  horse  again,  and 
the  yeomen  having  shaken  hands  all  around,  the  five  departed  upon  their  way. 

That  night  they  took  up  their  inn  in  Melton  Mowbray,  in  Leicestershire ;  and 
The  Page  and  the  next  night  they  lodged  at  Kettering,  in  Northamptonshire; 
the  four  yeomen  and  the  next  at  Bedford  Town  ;  and  the  next  at  St.  Albans,  in 

journey  toward 

London,  which  Hertfordshire.  This  place  they  left  not  long  after  the  middle  of 
***mtktmirnof  the  night,  and  travelling  fast  through  the  tender  dawning  of  the 
the  fifth  day.  summer  day,  when  the  dews  lay  shining  on  the  meadows  and  faint 
mists  hung  in  the  dales,  when  the  birds  sang  their  sweetest  and  the  cobwebs 
beneath  the  hedges  glimmered  like  fairy  cloth  of  silver,  they  came  at  last  to 
the  towers  and  walls  of  famous  London  Town,  whilst  the  morn  was  still  young 
and  all  golden  toward  the  east. 

Queen  Eleanor  sat  in  her  royal  bower,  through  the  open  casements  of  which 
poured  the  sweet  yellow  sunshine  in  great  floods  of  golden  light.  All  about 


ROBIN  AND  HIS  MEN  SHOOT  BEFORE  QUEEN  ELEANOR.      223 

her  stood  her  ladies  in  waiting  chatting  in  low  voices,  whilst  she  herself  sat 
dreamily  where  the  mild  air  came  softly  drifting  into  the  room  laden  with  the 
fresh  perfumes  of  the  sweet  red  roses  that  bloomed  in  the  great  garden  beneath 
the  wall.  To  her  came  one  who  said  that  her  page,  Richard  Partington,  and 
four  stout  yeomen  watted  her  pleasure  in  the  court  below.  Then  Queen  Eleanor 
arose  joyously  and  bade  them  be  straightway  shown  into  her  presence. 

Thus  Robin  Hood  and  Little  John  and  Will  Scarlet  and  Allan  a  Dale  came 
before  the  Queen  into  her  own  royal  bower.    Then  Robin  kneeled    Robin  Hoodand 
before  the  Queen  with  his  hands  folded  upon  his  breast,  saying,    JJjfJjJ/JJJJ 
in  simple  phrase,  "  Here  am  I,  Robin  Hood.     Thou  didst  bid  me    Queen  Eleanor. 
come,  and  lo,  I  do  thy  bidding.     I  give  myself  to  thee  as  thy  true  servant,  and 
will  do  thy  commanding,  even  if  it  be  to  the  shedding  of  the  last  drop  of  my 
life's  blood." 

But  good  Queen  Eleanor  smiled  pleasantly  upon  him,  bidding  him  to  arise  ; 
then  she  made  them  all  be  seated  to  rest  themselves  after  their  long  journey. 
Rich  food  was  brought  them  and  noble  wines,  and  she  had  her  own  pages  to 
wait  upon  the  wants  of  the  yeomen.  At  last,  after  they  had  eaten  all  they 
could,  she  began  questioning  them  of  their  merry  adventures.  The  yeomen  tell 
Then  they  told  her  all  of  the  lusty  doings  herein  spoken  of,  and  the  Queen  of 

I-T.-I  r    T  T        f      i  •   «*•       their  merry  ad- 

among  others  that  concerning  the  Bishop  of  Hereford  and  Sir   ventures  in  Sher- 
Richard  of  the  Lea,  and  how  the  Bishop  had  abided  three  days  in    wood ' Forest- 
Sherwood  Forest.     At  this  the  Queen  and  the  ladies  about  her  laughed  again 
and  again,  for  they  pictured  to  themselves  the  stout  Bishop  abiding  in  the  forest 
and  ranging  the  woods  in  lusty  sport  with   Robin  and  his  band.     Then,  when 
they  had  told  all  that  they  could  bring  to  mind,  the  Queen  asked    Allan  a  Dale 
Allan  to  sing  to  her,  for  his  fame  as  a  minstrel  had  reached  even    singeth  before 
to  the  court  at  London  Town.     So  straightway  Allan  took  his 
harp  in  his  hand,  and,  without  more  asking,  touched  the  strings  lightly  till  they 
all  rang  sweetly,  then  he  sang  thus  :  — 

"  Gentle  river,  gentle  river, 

Bright  thy  crystal  waters  flow, 
Sliding  where  the  aspens  shiver, 
Gliding  where  the  lilies  blow, 

"  Singing  over  pebbled  shallows, 

Kissing  blossoms  bending  low, 
Breaking  'ntath  the  dipping  swallows, 
Purpling  where  the  breezes  blow. 

"J  Floating  on  thy  breast  forever 

Down  thy  current  I  could  glide ; 


224      ROBIN  AND  HIS  MEN  SHOOT  BEFORE  QUEEN  ELEANOR. 

Grief  and  pain  should  reach  me  never 
On  thy  bright  and  gentle  tide. 

"  So  my  aching  heart  seeks  thine,  love, 

There  to  find  its  rest  and  peace, 
For,  though  loving,  bliss  is  mine,  love, 
And  my  many  troubles  cease" 

Thus  Allan  sang,  and  as  he  sang  all  eyes  dwelt  upon  him  and  not  a  sound 
broke  the  stillness,  and  even  after  he  had  done  the  silence  hung  for  a  short 
space.  So  the  time  passed  till  the  hour  drew  nigh  for  the  holding  of  the  great 
archery  match  in  Finsbury  Fields. 

A  gay  sight  were  famous  Finsbury  Fields  on  that  bright  and  sunny  morn 
ing  of  lusty  summer-time.  Along  the  end  of  the  meadow  stood  the  booths  for 
the  different  bands  of  archers,  for  the  King's  yeomen  were  divided  into  com 
panies  of  fourscore  men,  and  each  company  had  a  captain  over  it ;  so  on  the 
bright  greensward  stood  ten  booths  of  striped  canvas,  a  booth  for  each  band 
of  the  royal  archers,  and  at  the  peak  of  each  fluttered  a  flag  in  the  mellow  air, 
and  the  flag  was  the  color  that  belonged  to  the  captain  of  each  band.  From 
the  centre  booth  hung  the  yellow  flag  of  Tepus,  the  famous  bow-bearer  of  the 
King  ;  next  to  it,  on  one  hand,  was  the  blue  flag  of  Gilbert  of  the  White  Hand, 
and  on  the  other  the  blood-red  pennant  of  stout  young  Clifton  of  Buckingham 
shire.  The  seven  other  archer  captains  were  also  men  of  great  renown ;  among 
them  were  Egbert  of  Kent  and  William  of  Southampton  ;  but  those  first  named 
were  most  famous  of  all.  The  noise  of  many  voices  in  talk  and  laughter  came 
from  within  the  booths,  and  in  and  out  ran  the  attendants  like  ants  about  an 
ant-hill.  Some  bore  ale  and  beer,  and  some  bundles  of  bowstrings  or  sheaves 
of  arrows.  On  each  side  of  the  archery  range  were  rows  upon  rows  of  seats 
reaching  high  aloft,  and  in  the  centre  of  the  north  side  was  a  raised  dais  for  the 
King  and  Queen,  shaded  by  canvas  of  gay  colors,  and  hung  about  with  stream 
ing  silken  pennants  of  red  and  blue  and  green  and  white.  As  yet  the  King 
and  Queen  had  not  come,  but  all  the  other  benches  .were  full  of  people,  rising 
head  above  head  high  aloft  till  it  made  the  eye  dizzy  to  look  upon  them.  Eight- 
score  yards  distant  from  the  mark  from  which  the  archers  were  to  shoot  stood 
ten  fair  targets,  each  target  marked  by  a  flag  of  the  color  belonging  to  the  band 
that  was  to  shoot  thereat.  So  all  was  ready  and  all  waited  for  the  coming  of 
the  King  and  Queen. 

At  last  a  great  blast  of  bugles  sounded,  and  into  the  meadow  came  riding  six 
trumpeters  with  silver  trumpets,  from  which  hung  velvet  banners  heavy  with 
rich  workings  of  silver  and  gold  thread.  Behind  these  came  stout  King  Henry 


ROBIN  AND  HIS  MEN  SHOOT  BEFORE  QUEEN  ELEANOR.      225 

upon  a  dapple-gray  stallion,  with  his  Queen  beside  him  upon  a  milk-white  pal 
frey.     On  either  side  of  them  walked  the  yeomen  of  the  guard,    King  Henry 
the  bright  sunlight  flashing  from  the  polished  blades  of  the  steel 
halberds  they  carried.     Behind  these  came  the  Court  in  a  great    Fields. 
crowd,  so  that  presently  all  the  lawn  was  alive  with  bright  colors,  with  silk  and 
velvet,  with  waving  plumes  and  gleaming  gold,  with  flashing  jewels  and  sword 
hilts  ;  a  gallant  sight  on  that  bright  summer  day. 

Then  all  the  people  arose  and  shouted,  so  that  their  voices  sounded  like  the 
storm  upon  the  Cornish  coast,  when  the  dark  waves  run  upon  the  shore  and 
leap  and  break,  surging  amid  the  rocks  ;  so,  amid  the  roaring  and  the  surging 
of  the  people,  and  the  waving  of  scarfs  and  kerchiefs,  the  King  and  Queen  came 
to  their  place,  and,  getting  down  from  their  horses,  mounted  the  broad  stairs 
that  led  to  the  raised  platform,  and  there  took  their  seats  on  two  thrones  be 
decked  with  purple  silks  and  cloths  of  silver  and  of  gold. 

When  all  was  quiet  a  bugle  sounded,   and  straightway  the  archers  came 
marching  in  order  from  their  tents.     Fortyscore  they  were  in  all,    The  Kino,s 
as  stalwart  a  band  of  yeomen  as  could  be  found  in  all  the  wide    archers  arr»y 

.._,  .  ,      -     ,  .  ,  ,  .      ,  ...         themselves  hi  fore 

world.  So  they  came  in  orderly  fashion  and  stood  m  front  of  the  their  royal  mas- 
dais  where  King  Henry  and  his  Queen  sat.  King  Henry  looked  ter~ 
up  and  down  their  ranks  right  proudly,  for  his  heart  warmed  within  him  at 
the  sight  of  such  a  gallant  band  of  yeomen.  Then  he  bade  his  herald,  Sir 
Hugh  de  Mowbray,  stand  forth  and  proclaim  the  rules  governing  the  game. 
So  Sir  Hugh  stepped  to  the  edge  of  the  platform  and  spoke  in  a  loud  clear 
voice,  so  that  they  could  hear  him  even  to  the  ends  of  the  range,  and  thus  he 
said  :  — 

That  each  man  should  shoot  seven  arrows  at  the  target  that  belonged  to  his 
band,  and,  of  the  fourscore  yeomen  of  each  band,  the  three  that    «-..„,, 
shot  the  best  should  be  chosen.     These  three  should  shoot  three    Mowbray  pro- 
arrows  apiece,  and  the  one  that  shot  the  best  should  again  be    ^n'lTs'oft^meet, 
chosen.     Then  each  of  these  should  again  shoot  three  arrows    likewise  the 

11  i  ,i  -111  r~  •  prizes  to  be  given. 

apiece,  and  the  one  that  shot  the  best  should  have  the  first  prize, 
the  one  that  shot  the  next  best  should  have  the  second,  and  the  one  that  shot 
the  next  best  should  have  the  third  prize.  Each  of  the  others  should  have  four 
score  silver  pennies  for  his  shooting.  The  first  prize  was  to  be  twoscore  and 
ten  golden  pounds,  a  silver  bugle  horn  inlaid  with  gold,  and  a  quiver  with  ten 
white  arrows  tipped  with  gold  and  feathered  with  white  swan's  wing  therein. 
The  second  prize  was  to  be  fivescore  of  the  fattest  bucks  that  run  on  Dallen 
Lea,  to  be  shot  when  the  yeoman  that  won  them  chose.  The  third  prize  was 
to  be  two  tuns  of  good  Rhenish  wine. 

So  Sir  Hugh  spoke,  and  when  he  had  done  all  the  archers  waved  their  bows 


226      ROBIN  AND  HIS  MEN  SHOOT  BEFORE  QUEEN  ELEANOR. 

aloft  and  shouted.  Then  each  band  turned  and  marched  in  order  back  to  its 
place. 

And  now  the  shooting  began,  the  captains  first  taking  stand  and  speeding 
The  fort  score  tne^r  shaf ts  and  then  making  room  for  the  men  who  shot,  each  in 
archers  shoot  turn  after  them.  Two  hundred  and  eightyscore  shafts  were  shot 
in  all,  and  so  deftly  were  they  sped  that  when  the  shooting  was 
done  each  target  looked  like  the  back  of  a  hedgehog  when  the  farm  dog  snuffs 
at  it.  A  long  time  was  taken  in  this  shooting,  and  when  it  was  over  the  judges 
came  forward,  looked  carefully  at  the  targets,  and  proclaimed  in  a  loud  voice 
which  three  had  shot  the  best  from  the  separate  bands.  Then  a  great  hubbub 
of  voices  arose,  each  man  among  the  crowd  that  looked  on  calling  for  his  favor 
ite  archer.  Then  ten  fresh  targets  were  brought  forward,  and  every  sound  was 
hushed  as  the  archers  took  their  places  once  more. 

This  time  the  shooting  was  more  speedily  done,  for  only  nine  shafts  were  shot 
The  thirty  arch-  by  each  band.  Not  an  arrow  missed  the  targets,  but  in  that  of 
ethecot^rsfsrh°oot  Gilbert  of  the  White  Hand  five  arrows  were  in  the  small  white 
their  shafts.  spot  that  marked  the  centre  ;  of  these  five  three  were  sped  by 
Gilbert.  Then  the  judges  came  forward  again,  and  looking  at  the  targets,  called 
aloud  the  names  of  the  archer  chosen  as  the  best  bowman  of  each  band.  Of 
these  Gilbert  of  the  White  Hand  led,  for  six  of  the  ten  arrows  he  had  shot  had 
lodged  in  the  centre  ;  but  stout  Tepus  and  young  Clifton  trod  close  upon  his 
heels  ;  yet  the  others  stood  a  fair  chance  for  the  second  or  third  place. 

And  now,  amid  the  roaring  of  the  crowd,  those  ten  stout  fellows  that  were 
left  went  back  to  their  tents  to  rest  for  a  while  and  change  their  bowstrings,  for 
nought  must  fail  at  this  next  round,  and  no  hand  must  tremble  or  eye  grow  dim 
because  of  weariness. 

Then  whilst  the  deep  buzz  and  hum  of  talking  sounded  all  around  like  the 
The  Queen  ask-  n°ise  °f  the  wind  in  the  leafy  forest,  Queen  Eleanor  turned  to  the 
eth  strange  ques-  King,  and  quoth  she,  "Thinkest  thou  that  these  yeomen  so  chosen 

tions  of  the  Kin?  .        ,.  „       .        ,  ,  „ 

about  his  yea-      are  the  very  best  archers  in  all  merry  England  f 
men-  "  Yea,  truly,"  said  the  King,  smiling,  for  he  was  well  pleased 

with  the  sport  that  he  had  seen  ;  "  and  I  tell  thee,  that  not  only  are  they  the 
best  archers  in  all  merry  England,  but  in  all  the  wide  world  beside." 

"  But  what  wouldst  thou  say,"  quoth  Queen  Eleanor,  "  if  I  were  to  find  three 
archers  to  match  the  best  three  yeomen  of  all  thy  guard  ? " 

"  I  would  say  thou  hast  done  what  I  could  not  do,"  said  the  King,  laughing, 
"  for  I  tell  thee  there  lives  not  in  all  the  world  three  archers  to  match  Tepus 
and  Gilbert  and  Clifton  of  Buckinghamshire." 

"  Now,"  said  the  Queen,  "  I  know  of  three  yeomen,  and  in  truth  I  have  seen 
them  not  long  since,  that  I  would  not  fear  to  match  against  any  three  that  thou 


ROBIN  AND  HIS  MEN  SHOOT  BEFORE  QUEEN  ELEANOR.      227 

canst  choose  from  among  all  thy  fortyscore  archers ;  and,  moreover,  I  will  match 
them  here  this  very  day.  But  I  will  only  match  them  with  thy  archers  pro 
viding  that  thou  wilt  grant  a  free  pardon  to  all  that  may  come  in  my  behalf." 

At  this  the  King  laughed  loud  and  long.     "Truly,"  said  he,  "  thou  art  taking 
up  with  strange  matters  for  a  queen.     If  thou  wilt  bring  those    The  Ki 
three  fellows  that  thou  speakest  of  I  will  promise  faithfully  to  give  pledges  his  -word 

r  ,        ,  ,  "  to  the  Queen. 

them  free  pardon  for  forty  days,  to  come  or  to  go  wheresoever 
they  please,  nor  will  I  harm  a  hair  of  their  heads  in  all  that  time.     Moreover,  if 
these  that  thou  bringest  shoot  better  than  my  yeomen,  man  for  man,  they  shall 
have  the  prizes  for  themselves  according  to  their  shooting.     But    The  Kin*  offers 
as  thou  hast  so  taken  up  of  a  sudden  with  sports  of  this  kind,  hast    «  wager  to  the 

,   ,  ..  .,  Queen. 

thou  a  mind  tor  a  wager  : 

"  Why,  in  sooth,"  said  Queen  Eleanor,  laughing,  "  I  know  nought  of  such 
matters,  but  if  thou  hast  a  mind  to  do  somewhat  in  that  way,  I  will  strive  to 
pleasure  thee.  What  wilt  thou  wager  upon  thy  men  ? " 

Then  the  merry  King  laughed  again,  for  he  dearly  loved  a  goodly  jest ;  so 
he  said,  amidst  his  laughter,  "  I  will  wager  thee  ten  tuns  of  Rhenish  wine,  ten 
tuns  of  the  stoutest  ale,  and  tenscore  bows  of  tempered  Spanish  yew,  with 
quivers  and  arrows  to  match." 

All  that  stood  around  smiled  at  this,  for  it  seemed  a  merry  wager  for  a  king 
to  give  to  a  queen  ;  but  Queen  Eleanor  bowed  her  head  quietly.    The  Queen  tak. 
"I  will  take  thy  wager,"  said  she,  "for  I  know  right  well  where   eth  the  King's 
to  place  those  things  that  thou  hast  spoken  of.     Now,  who  will 
be  on  my  side  in  this  matter  ? "     And  she  looked  around  upon  them  that  stood 
about ;  but  no  one  spake  or  cared  to  wager  upon  the  Queen's  side  against  such 
archers  as  Tepus  and   Gilbert  and  Clifton.     Then  the  Queen  spoke  again  : 
"  Now,  who  will  back  me  in  this  wager  ?     Wilt  thou,  my  Lord  Bishop  of  Here 
ford  ?  " 

"  Nay,"  quoth  the  Bishop,  hastily,  "  it  ill  befits  one  of  my  cloth  to  deal  in 
such  matters.     Moreover,  there  are  no  such  archers  as  his  majes-    The  Lord 
ty's  in  all  the  world  ;  therefore  I  would  but  lose  my  money."  Bishop  of  Here- 

"  Methinks  the  thought  of  thy  gold  weigheth  more  heavily  with  back  The  Queen 
thee  than  the  wrong  to  thy  cloth,"  said  the  Queen,  smiling ;  and  *'*  her  waser- 
at  this  a  ripple  of  laughter  went  around,  for  every  one  knew  how  fond  the 
Bishop  was  of  his  money.  Then  the  Queen  turned  to  a  knight  who  stood  near, 
whose  name  was  Sir  Robert  Lee.  "  Wilt  thou  back  me  in  this  matter  ?  "  said 
she.  "  Thou  art  surely  rich  enough  to  risk  so  much  for  the  sake  of  a  lady." 

"  To  pleasure  my  Queen  I  will  do  it,"  said  Sir  Robert  Lee,  "but  for  the  sake 
of  no  other  in  all  the  world  would  I  wager  a  groat,  for  no  man  can  stand  against 
Tepus  and  Gilbert  and  Clifton." 


228      ROBIN  AND  HIS  MEN  SHOOT  BEFORE  QUEEN  ELEANOR. 

Then  turning  to  the  King,  Queen  Eleanor  said,  "  I  want  no  such  aid  as  Sir 
Tke  Queen  will  Robert  giveth  me ;  but  against  thy  wine  and  beer  and  stout  bows 
not  have  Sir  of  yew  I  wager  this  girdle  all  set  with  jewels  from  around  my 

Robert  Lee's  ••<•>•<• 

backing  to  her    waist ;  and  surely  that  is  worth  more  than  thine. 
wager-  "  Now,  I   take  thy  wager,"  quoth  the  King.     "  Send  for  thy 

archers  straightway.  But  here  come  forth  the  others  ;  let  them  shoot,  and 
then  I  will  match  those  that  win  against  all  the  world." 

"  So  be  it,"  said  the  Queen.  Thereupon,  beckoning  to  young  Richard  Par- 
tington,  she  whispered  something  in  his  ear,  and  straightway  the  Page  bowed 
and  left  the  place,  crossing  the  meadow  to  the  other  side  of  the  range,  where 
he  was  presently  lost  in  the  crowd.  At  this  all  that  stood  around  whispered  to 
one  another,  wondering  what  it  all  meant,  and  what  three  men  the  Queen  was 
about  to  set  against  those  famous  archers  of  the  King's  guard. 

And  now  the  ten  archers  of  the  King's  guard  took  their  stand  again,  and  all 
The  ten  archers  the  great  crowd  was  hushed  to  the  stillness  of  death.  Slowly  and 
rt/ier" *sh"ot  **'  carefully  each  man  shot  his  shafts,  and  so  deep  was  the  silence 
again.  that  you  could  hear  every  arrow  rap  against  the  target  as  it 

struck  it.  Then,  when  the  last  shaft  had  sped,  a  great  roar  went  up  ;  and  the 
shooting,  I  wot,  was  well  worthy  of  the  sound.  Once  again  Gilbert  had  lodged 
three  arrows  in  the  white  ;  Tepus  came  second  with  two  in  the  white  and  one 
in  the  black  ring  next  to  it ;  but  stout  Clifton  had  gone  down  and  Hubert  of 
Suffolk  had  taken  the  third  place,  for,  while  both  those  two  good  yeomen  had 
lodged  two  in  the  white,  Clifton  had  lost  one  shot  upon  the  fourth  ring,  and 
Hubert  came  in  with  one  in  the  third. 

All  the  archers  around  Gilbert's  booth  shouted  for  joy  till  their  throats  were 
hoarse,  tossing  their  caps  aloft,  and  shaking  hands  with  one  another. 

In  the  midst  of  all  this  noise  and  hubbub  five  men  came  walking  across  the 
The  Queen's  lawn  toward  the  King's  pavilion.  The  first  was  Richard  Parting- 
Page  cometh  ton,  and  was  known  to  most  folk  there,  but  the  others  were 

across  the  lawn  ,       ,  ,-,      .  ,  ,->      , .  ,,       , 

•with  four  strange  strange  to  everybody.  Beside  young  Partmgton  walked  a  yeo- 
yeomen.  man  clad  in  blue,  and  behind  came  three  others,  two  in  Lincoln 

green  and  one  in  scarlet.  This  last  yeoman  carried  three  stout  bows  of  yew 
tree,  two  fancifully  inlaid  with  silver  and  one  with  gold.  Whilst  these  five  men 
came  walking  across  the  meadow,  a  messenger  came  running  from  the  King's 
booth,  and  summoned  Gilbert  and  Tepus  and  Hubert  to  go  with  him.  And  now 
the  shouting  quickly  ceased,  for  all  saw  that  something  unwonted  was  toward, 
so  the  folk  stood  up  in  their  places  and  leaned  forward  to  see  what  was  the  ado. 
When  Partington  and  the  others  came  before  the  spot  where  the  King  and 
Queen  sat,  the  four  yeomen  bent  their  knees  and  doffed  their  caps  unto  her. 
King  Henry  leaned  far  forward  and  stared  at  them  closely,  but  the  Bishop  of 


ROBIN  AND  HIS  MEN  SHOOT  BEFORE  QUEEN  ELEANOR.      229 

Hereford,  when  he  saw  their  faces,  started  as  though  stung  by  a  wasp.     He 
opened  his  mouth  as  though  about  to  speak,  but,  looking  up,  he 

°  r  °  The  Bishop  of 

saw  the  Queen  gazing  at  him  with  a  smile  upon  her  lips,  so  he  Hereford  know- 
said  nothing,  but  bit  his  nether  lip,  whilst  his  face  was  as  red  as  eth  old  frtends- 
a  cherry. 

Then  the  Queen  leaned  forward  and  spake  in  a  clear  voice,  "  Locksley," 
said  she,  "  I  have  laid  a  wager  with  the  King  that  thou  and  two  of  thy  men  can 
outshoot  any  three  that  he  can  send  against  you.  Wilt  thou  do  thy  best  for 
my  sake  ? " 

"  Yea,"  quoth  Robin  Hood,  to  whom  she  spake,  "  I  will  do  my  best  for  thy 
sake,  and,  if  I  fail,  I  make  my  vow  never  to  finger  bowstring  more." 

Now,  although  Little  John  had  been  somewhat  abashed  in  the  Queen's 
bower,  he  felt  himself  the  sturdy  fellow  he  was  when  the  soles  of  his  feet 
pressed  green  grass  again ;  so  he  said  boldly,  "  Now,  blessings  on  thy  sweet 
face,  say  I.  An  there  lived  a  man  that  would  not  do  his  best  for  thee  —  I  will 
say  nought,  only  I  would  like  to  have  the  cracking  of  his  knave's  pate  ! " 

"  Peace,  Little  John  ! "  said  Robin  Hood,  hastily,  in  a  low  voice  ;  but  good 
Queen  Eleanor  laughed  aloud,  and  a  ripple  of  merriment  sounded  all  over  the 
booth. 

The  Bishop  of  Hereford  did  not  laugh,  neither  did  the  King,  but  he  turned 
to  the  Queen,  and  quoth  he,  "  Who  are  these  men  that  thou  hast  brought  be 
fore  us  ? " 

Then  up  spoke  the  Bishop,  hastily,  for  he  could  hold  his  peace  no  longer : 
"Your  majesty,"  quoth  he,  "yon  fellow  in  blue  is  a  certain  out-  The  Bishop  Of 
lawed  thief  of  the  midcountry,  named  Robin  Hood  ;  yon  tall,  Hereford  teiieth 

•11    •  ,11  i  <•    T  •     i       T    i  the  King  who 

strapping  villain  goeth  by  the  name  of   Little  John  ;  the  other   the  four  strange 
fellow  in  green  is  a  certain  backsliding  gentleman,  known  as  Will   yeomen  are- 
Scarlet ;  the  man  in  red  is  a  rogue  of  a  northern  minstrel,  named  Allan  a 
Dale." 

At  this  speech  the  King's  brows  drew  together  blackly,  and  he  turned  to  the 

Queen.     "  Is  this  true  ? "  said  he,  sternly. 
*  The   King  is 

"  Yea,"  said  the  Queen,  smiling,  "  the  Bishop  hath  told  the   wroth  at  the 
truth  ;  and  truly  he  should  know  them  well,  for  he  and  two  of  his 
friars  spent  three  days  in  merry  sport  with  Robin  Hood  in  Sherwood  Forest. 
I  did  little  think  that  the  good  Bishop  would  so  betray  his  friends.     But  bear 
in  mind  that  thou  hast  pledged  thy  promise  for  the  safety  of  these  good  yeomen 
for  forty  days." 

"  I  will  keep  my  promise,"  said  the  King,  in  a  deep  voice  that  showed  the 
anger  in  his  heart ;  "  but  when  these  forty  days  are  gone  let  this  outlaw  look 
to  himself,  for  mayhap  things  will  not  go  so  smoothly  with  him  as  he  would 


230      ROBIN  AND  HIS  MEN  SHOOT  BEFORE  QUEEN  ELEANOR. 

like."  Then  he  turned  to  his  archers,  who  stood  near  the  Sherwood  yeomen, 
listening  and  wondering  at  all  that  passed.  Quoth  he,  "  Gilbert,  and  thou, 
Tepus,  and  thou,  Hubert,  I  have  pledged  myself  that  ye  shall  shoot  against 
these  three  fellows.  If  ye  outshoot  the  knaves  I  will  fill  your  caps  with  silver 
pennies  ;  if  ye  fail  ye  shall  lose  your  prizes  that  ye  have  won  so  fairly,  and  they 
go  to  them  that  shoot  against  you,  man  to  man.  Do  your  best,  lads,  and  if  ye 
win  this  bout  ye  shall  be  glad  of  it  to  the  last  days  of  your  life.  Go,  now,  and 
get  you  gone  to  the  butts." 

Then  the  three  archers  of  the  King  turned  and  went  back  to  their  booths, 
and  Robin  and  his  men  went  to  -their  places  at  the  mark  from  which  they  were 
to  shoot.  Then  they  strung  their  bows  and  made  themselves  ready,  looking 
over  their  quivers  of  arrows,  and  picking  out  the  roundest  and  the  best  feath 
ered. 

But  when  the  King's  archers  went  to  their  tents,  they  told  their  friends  all 
that  had  passed,  and  how  that  these  four  men  were  the  famous  Robin  Hood 
The  news  of  anc*  three  of  his  band,  to  wit,  Little  John,  Will  Scarlet,  and  Allan 
Robin  Hood's  a  Dale.  The  news  of  this  buzzed  around  among  the  archers  in 

comine  spread-  ,  .          .      ,  ,  .       , 

eth  far  and  the  booths,  for  there  was  not  a  man  there  that  had  not  heard  or 
near'  these  great  midcountry  yeomen.  From  the  archers  the  news  was 

taken  up  by  the  crowd  that  looked  on  at  the  shooting,  so  that  at  last  everybody 
stood  up,  craning  their  necks  to  catch  sight  of  the  famous  outlaws. 

Six  fresh  targets  were  now  set  up,  one  for  each  man  that  was  to  shoot ; 
whereupon  Gilbert  and  Tepus  and  Hubert  came  straightway  forth  from  the 
booths.  Then  Robin  Hood  and  Gilbert  of  the  White  Hand  tossed  a  farthing 
aloft  to  see  who  should  lead  in  the  shooting,  and  the  lot  fell  to  Gilbert's  side  ; 
thereupon  he  called  upon  Hubert  of  Suffolk  to  lead. 

Hubert  took  his  place,  planted  his  foot  firmly,  and  fitted  a  fair,  smooth  ar- 
Hubert  of  Snf-  row  >  then>  breathing  upon  his  finger-tips,  he  drew  the  string 
folk  leadeth  in  slowly  and  carefully.  The  arrow  sped  true,  and  lodged  in  the 
white ;  again  he  shot,  and  again  he  hit  the  clout ;  a  third  shaft 
he  sped,  but  this  time  failed  of  the  centre,  and  but  struck  the  black,  yet  not 
more  than  a  finger's  breadth  from  the  white.  At  this  a  shout  went  up,  for 
it  was  the  best  shooting  that  Hubert  had  yet  done  that  day. 

Merry  Robin  laughed,  and  quoth  he,  "Thou  wilt  have  an  ill  time  bettering 
that  round,  Will,  for  it  is  thy  turn  next.  Brace  thy  thews,  lad,  and  bring  not 
shame  upon  Sherwood." 

Then  Will  Scarlet  took  his  place  ;  but,  because  of  over-caution,  he  spoiled 
Will  Scarlet  his  target  with  the  very  first  arrow  that  he  sped,  for  he  hit  the 

S'12£  next  rin£  to  the  black>  the  second  from  the  centre.  At  this 
first  arrow.  Robin  bit  his  lips.  "  Lad,  lad,"  quoth  he,  "  hold  not  the  string 


ROBIN  AND  HIS  MEN  SHOOT  BEFORE  QUEEN  ELEANOR.      231 

so  long !  Have  I  not  often  told  thee  what  Gaffer  Swanthold  sayeth,  that  '  over- 
caution  spilleth  the  milk  ? ' '  To  this  Will  Scarlet  took  heed,  so  the  next  arrow 
he  shot  lodged  fairly  in  the  centre  ring ;  again  he  shot,  and  again  he  smote 
the  centre  ;  but,  for  all  that,  stout  Hubert  had  outshot  him,  and  showed  the 
better  target.  Then  all  those  that  looked  on  clapped  their  hands  for  joy  be 
cause  that  Hubert  had  overcome  the  stranger. 

Quoth  the  King,  grimly,  to  the  Queen,  "  If  thy  archers  shoot  no  better  than 
that,  thou  art  like  to  lose  thy  wager,  lady."  But  Queen  Eleanor  smiled,  for 
she  looked  for  better  things  from  Robin  Hood  and  Little  John. 

And  now  Tepus  took  his  place  to  shoot.  He,  also,  took  over-heed  to  what 
he  was  about,  and  so  he  fell  into  Will  Scarlet's  error.  The  first  The  Kin°'sb<rw- 
arrow  he  struck  into  the  centre  ring,  but  the  second  missed  its  bearer,  Tepus, 

i  i  111111  -1-111        shooteth  next. 

mark,  and  smote  the  black  ;  the  last  arrow  was  tipped  with  luck, 
for  it  smote  the  very  centre  of  the  clout,  upon  the  black  spot  that  marked  it. 
Quoth  Robin  Hood,  "  That  is  the  sweetest  shot  that  hath  been  sped  this  day ; 
but,  nevertheless,  friend  Tepus,  thy  cake  is  burned,  methinks.     Little  John,  it 
is  thy  turn  next." 

So  Little  John  took  his  place  as  bidden,  and  shot  his  three  arrows  quickly. 
He  never  lowered  his  bow  arm  in  all  the  shooting,  but  fitted  each    Little  ^ohn  ouf_ 
shaft  with  his  long  bow  raised  ;  yet  all  three  of  his  arrows  smote    shoots  stout  Te~ 
the  centre  within  easy  distance  of  the  black.    At  this  no  sound  of 
shouting  was  heard,  for,  although  it  was  the  best  shooting  that  had  been  done 
that  day,  the  folk  of  London  Town  did  not  like  to  see  the  stout  Tepus  over 
come  by  a  fellow  from  the  countryside,  even  were  he  as  famous  as  Little  John. 

And  now  stout  Gilbert  of  the  White  Hand  took  his  place  and  shot  with  the 
greatest  care  ;  and  again,  for  the  third  time  in  one  day,  he  struck  Once  again  Gil- 
all  three  shafts  into  the  clout.  £#£*21 

"  Well  done,  Gilbert ! "  quoth  Robin  Hood,  smiting  him  upon  dean  score- 
the  shoulder.  "  I  make  my  vow,  thou  art  one  of  the  best  archers  that  ever 
mine  eyes  beheld.  Thou  shouldst  be  a  free  and  merry  ranger  like  us,  lad,  for 
thou  art  better  fitted  for  the  greenwood  than  for  the  cobble-stones  and  gray 
walls  of  London  Town."  So  saying,  he  took  his  place,  and  drew  a  fair,  round 
arrow  from  his  quiver,  which  he  turned  over  and  over  ere  he  fitted  it  to  his 
bowstring. 

Then  the  King  muttered  in  his  beard,  "  Now,  blessed  Saint  Hubert,  if  thou 
wilt  but  jog  that  rogue's  elbow  so  as  to  make  him  smite  even  the  Ki  Henry  of- 
second  ring,  I  will  give  eightscore  waxen  candles  three  fingers'  fers  a  prayer  to 

i          11-        1-1  i          i          •'••'«•        i  •        »      T-.        •  Saint  Hubert. 

breadth  in  thickness  to  thy  chapel  nigh  Matching.       But  it  may 

be  Saint  Hubert's  ears  were  stuffed  with  tow,  for  he  seemed  not  to  hear  the 

King's  prayer  this  day. 


232      ROBIN  AND  HIS  MEN  SHOOT  BEFORE  QUEEN  ELEANOR. 

Having  gotten  three  shafts  to  his  liking,  merry  Robin  looked  carefully  to  his 
bowstring  ere  he  shot.  "  Yea,"  quoth  he  to  Gilbert,  who  stood  nigh  him  to 
watch  his  shooting,  "  thou  shouldst  pay  us  a  visit  at  merry  Sherwood."  Here 
he  drew  the  bowstring  to  his  ear.  "  In  London  "  —  here  he  loosed  his  shaft  — 
"  thou  canst  find  nought  to  shoot  at  but  rooks  and  daws  ;  there  one  can  tickle 
the  ribs  of  the  noblest  stags  in  England."  So  he  shot  even  whilst  he  talked, 
yet  the  shaft  lodged  not  more  than  half  an  inch  from  the  very  centre. 

"  By  my  soul  !  "  cried  Gilbert.  "  Art  thou  the  devil  in  blue,  to  shoot  in  that 
wise  ?  " 

"Nay,"  quoth  Robin,  laughing,  "not  quite  so  ill  as  that,  I  trust."  And  he 
Robin  Hood  to°^  UP  an°ther  shaft  and  fitted  it  to  the  string.  Again  he  shot, 
shoots  his  three  and  again  he  smote  his  arrow  close  beside  the  centre  ;  a  third 

arrows  in  a  .  .  . 

•wondrous  man-     time  he  loosed  his  bowstring,  and  dropped  his  arrow  just  betwixt 
the  other  two  and  into  the  very  centre,  so  that  the  feathers  of  all 
three  were  ruffled  together,  seeming  from  a  distance  to  be  one  thick  shaft. 

And  now  a  low  murmur  ran  all  among  that  great  crowd,  for  never  before  had 
London  seen  such  shooting  as  this  ;  and  never  again  would  it  see  it  after  Robin 
Hood's  day  had  gone.  All  saw  that  the  King's  archers  were  fairly  beaten,  and 
Stout  Gilbert  stout  Gilbert  clapped  his  palm  to  Robin's,  owning  that  he  could 
owneth  himself  never  hope  to  draw  such  a  bowstring  as  Robin  Hood  or  Little 
John.  But  the  King,  full  of  wrath,  would  not  have  it  so,  though 
he  knew  in  his  mind  that  his  men  could  not  stand  against  those  fellows. 
"  Nay  ! "  cried  he,  clenching  his  hands  upon  the  arms  of  his  seat,  "  Gilbert  is 
not  yet  beaten  !  Did  he  not  strike  the  clout  thrice  ?  Although  I  have  lost 
my  wager,  he  hath  not  yet  lost  the  first  prize.  They  shall  shoot  again,  and  still 
again,  till  either  he  or  that  knave  Robin  Hood  cometh  off  the  best.  Go  thou, 
Sir  Hugh,  and  bid  them  shoot  another  round,  and  another,  until  one  or  the 
other  is  overcome."  Then  Sir  Hugh,  seeing  how  wroth  the  King  was,  said 
never  a  word,  but  went  straightway  to  do  his  bidding ;  so  he  came  to  where 
Robin  Hood  and  the  other  stood,  and  told  them  what  the  King  had  said. 

"  With  all  my  heart,"  quoth  merry  Robin,  "  I  will  shoot  from  this  time  till 
to-morrow  day  if  it  can  pleasure  my  most  gracious  lord  and  king.  Take  thy 
place,  Gilbert  lad,  and  shoot." 

Gilbert shooteth  So  Gilbert  took  his  place  once  more,  but  this  time  he  failed, 
°bnt mfaetAtAe  *or'  a  sudden  little  wmd  arising,  his  shaft  missed  the  centre  ring, 
•white.  but  by  not  more  than  the  breadth  of  a  barley  straw. 

"  Thy  eggs  are  cracked,  Gilbert,"  quoth  Robin,  laughing ;  and  straightway 
Robin  Hood  he  loosed  a  shaft,  and  once  more  smote  the  white  circle  of  the 

lodges  another         rp-r\\rf* 
arrow  in  the  Centre. 

centre  ring.  Then  the  King  arose  from  his  place,  and  not  a  word  said  he, 


R  OB  IN  AND  HIS  MEN  SHO  O  2 '  BEFORE  Q  UEEN  ELEANOR.      233 

but  he  looked  around  with  a  baleful  look,  and  it  would  have  been  an  ill  day  for 
any  one  that  he  saw  with  a  joyous  or  a  merry  look  upon  his  face.    The  King  leav- 
Then  he  and  his  Queen  and  all  the  court  left  the  place,  but  the    ^^^ff 
King's  heart  was  brimming  full  of  wrath  within  him.  wrath. 

After  the  King  had  gone,  all  the  yeomen  of  the  archer  guard  came  crowding 
around  Robin,  and  Little  John,  and  Will,  and  Allan,  to  snatch  a  look  at  these 
famous  fellows  from  the  midcountry  ;  and  with  them  came  many  that  had  been 
onlookers  at  the  sport,  for  the  same  purpose.  Thus  it  happened  presently  that 
the  yeomen,  to  whom  Gilbert  stood  talking,  were  all  surrounded  by  a  crowd  of 
people  that  formed  a  ring  about  them.  "  Marry,"  quoth  Little  John  to  Will 
Scarlet,  "  one  would  think  that  these  poor  fellows  had  never  seen  a  stout  yeo 
man  ranger  in  all  their  lives  before,  or  that  we  were  some  curious  spectacle, 
like  the  Cumberland  Giant,  or  the  Welsh  Dwarf,  that  we  saw  last  month  at  the 
fair  at  Norwich." 

After  a  while  the  three  judges  that  had  the  giving  away  of  the  prizes  came 
forward,  and  the  chief  of  them  all  spake  to  Robin  and  said :  "  According  to 
agreement,  the  first  prize  belongeth  rightly  to  thee  ;  so  here  I  give  thee  the 
silver  bugle,  here  the  quiver  of  ten  golden  arrows,  and  here  a  purse  of  twoscore 
and  ten  golden  pounds."  And  as  he  spake  he  handed  those  things  to  Robin, 
and  then  turned  to  Little  John.  "  To  thee,"  he  said,  "  belongeth  the  second 
prize,  to  wit,  fivescore  of  the  finest  harts  that  run  on  Dallen  Lea.  Thou  mayest 
shoot  them  whensoever  thou  dost  list."  Last  of  all  he  turned  to  stout  Hubert. 
"  Thou,"  said  he,  "  hast  held  thine  own  against  the  yeoman  with  whom  thou 
didst  shoot,  and  so  thou  hast  kept  the  prize  duly  thine,  to  wit,  two  tuns  of  good 
Rhenish  wine.  These  shall  be  delivered  to  thee  whensoever  thou  dost  list." 
Then  he  called  upon  the  other  seven  of  the  King's  archers  who  had  last  shot, 
and  gave  them  each  fourscore  silver  pennies. 

Then  up  spake  Robin,  and  quoth  he,  "This  silver  bugle  I  keep  in  honor  of  this 
shooting  match  ;  but  thou,  Gilbert,  art  the  best  archer  of  all  the 

,  r  r        •,  -,        ™   •>         Robin  Hood  and 

King  s  guard,  and  to  thee  I  freely  give  this  purse  of  gold.     Take    Little  John  di- 
it,  man,  and  would  it  were  ten  times  as  much,  for  thou  art  a  right    ^mm^ttesTmtt 
yeoman,  good  and  true.     Furthermore,  to  each  of  the  ten  that  last    archers  of  the 

IT-  r     i  /-  -,-r  i  King1  s  guard. 

shot  I  give  one  of  these  golden  shafts  apiece.     Keep  them  always 

by  you,  so  that  ye  may  tell  your  grandchildren,  an  ye  are  ever  blessed  with 

them,  that  ye  are  the  very  stoutest  yeomen  in  all  the  wide  world." 

At  this  all  shouted  aloud,  for  it  pleased  them  to  hear  Robin  speak  so  of 
them. 

Then  up  spake  Little  John.  "  Good  friend  Tepus,"  said  he,  "  I  want  not 
those  harts  of  Dallen  Lea  that  yon  stout  judge  spoke  of  but  now,  for  in  truth 
we  have  enow  and  more  than  enow  in  our  own  country.  Twoscore  and  ten 


234      ROBIN  AND  HIS  MEN  SHOOT  BEFORE  QUEEN  ELEANOR. 

I  give  to  thee  for  thine  own  shooting,  and  five  I  give  to  each  band  for  their 
pleasure." 

At  this  another  great  shout  went  up,  and  many  tossed  their  caps  aloft,  and 
swore  among  themselves  that  no  better  fellows  ever  walked  the  sod  than  Robin 
Hood  and  his  stout  yeomen. 

Whilst  they  so  shouted  with  loud  voices,  a  tall  burly  yeoman  of  the  King's 
guard  came  forward  and  plucked  Robin  by  the  sleeve.  "  Good  master,"  quoth 
he,  "I  have  somewhat  to  tell  thee  in  thine  ear;  a  silly  thing,  God  wot,  for  one 
stout  yeoman  to  tell  another ;  but  a  young  peacock  of  a  page,  one  Richard 
One  bringeth  Partington,  was  seeking  thee  without  avail  in  the  crowd,  and,  not 

I'nTfooSo/^'  bein£  able  to  find  thee>  told  me  that  he  bore  a  message  to  thee 
Kings  -wrath.  frOm  a  certain  lady  that  thou  wottest  of.  This  message  he  bade 
me  tell  thee  privily,  word  for  word,  and  thus  it  was.  Let  me  see  —  I  trust  I 
have  forgot  it  not  —  yea,  thus  it  was  :  'The  lion  growls.  Beware  thy  head.'" 

"  Is  it  so  ?  "  quoth  Robin,  starting  ;  for  he  knew  right  well  that  it  was  the 
Queen  sent  the  message,  and  that  she  spake  of  the  King's  wrath.  "  Now,  I 
thank  thee,  good  fellow,  for  thou  hast  done  me  greater  service  than  thou 
knowest  of  this  day."  Then  he  called  his  three  yeomen  together,  and  told 
Robin  Hood  and  them  privately  that  they  had  best  be  jogging,  as  it  was  like  to  be 
men  have 'LCV*  ^  ^or  them  so  nigh  rnerry  London  Town.  So,  without  tarrying 
don  Town.  longer,  they  made  their  way  through  the  crowd  until  they  had 

come  out  from  the  press.  Then,  without  stopping,  they  left  London  Town,  and 
started  away  northward. 

Thus  ended  the  famous  shooting  match  before  Queen  Eleanor.  And  now  we 
will  hear  how  ill  King  Harry  kept  his  promise  to  his  Queen  that  no  harm 
should  befall  Robin  Hood  for  forty  days,  in  which  time  he  might  come  and  go 
as  he  wished. 


eth  his  promise 
to  the  Queen  of 
Robin   Hood's 
safety. 


II. 

The  Chase  of  Robin   Hood. 

SO  Robin  Hood  and  the  others  left  the  archery  range  at  Finsbury  Fields, 
and,  tarrying  not,  set  forth  straightway  upon  their  homeward  journey.     It 
was  well  for  them  that  they  did  so,  for  they  had  not  gone  more  than  three 
or  four  miles  upon  their  way  when  six  of  the  yeomen  of  the  King's  guard 
came  bustling  amongst  the  crowd  that  still  lingered,  seeking  for    The  King  break- 
Robin  and  his  men,  to  seize  upon  them  and  make  them  prisoners. 
Truly,  it  was  an  ill-done  thing  in  the  King  to  break  his  promise, 
but  it  all  came  about  through  the  Bishop  of  Hereford's  doing,  for 
thus  it  happened  :  — 

After  the  King  left  the  archery  ground,  he  went  straightway  to  his  cabinet, 
and  with  him  went  the  Bishop  of  Hereford  and  Sir  Robert  Lee  ;  but  the  King 
said  never  a  word  to  these  two,  but  sat  gnawing  his  nether  lip,  for  his  heart 
was  galled  within  him  by  what  had  happened.  At  last  the  Bishop  of  Hereford 
spoke,  in  a  low,  sorrowful  voice :  "  It  is  a  sad  thing,  your  maj-  The  Bishop  of 
esty,"  quoth  he,  "  that  this  knavish  outlaw  should  be  let  to  escape 
in  this  wise ;  for,  let  him  but  get  back  to  Sherwood  Forest  safe  Robin 
and  sound,  and  he  may  snap  his  fingers  at  King  and  King's  men." 

At  these  words  the  King  raised  his  eyes  and  looked  grimly  upon  the  Bishop. 
"Sayst  thou  so  ?  "  quoth  he.  "Now,  I  will  show  thee,  in  good  time,  how  much 
thou  dost  err,  for,  when  the  forty  days  are  past  and  gone,  I  will  seize  upon  this 
thieving  outlaw,  if  I  have  to  tear  down  all  of  Sherwood  to  find  him.  Thinkest 
thou  that  the  laws  of  the  King  of  England  are  to  be  so  evaded  by  one  poor 
knave  without  friends  or  money  ?  " 

Then  the  Bishop  spoke  again,  in  his  soft,  smooth  voice :  "  Forgive  my  bold 
ness,  your  majesty,  and  believe  that  I  have  naught  but  the  good  of  England 
and  your  majesty's  desirings  at  heart ;  but  what  would  it  boot  though  my  gra 
cious  lord  did  root  up  every  tree  of  Sherwood  ?  Are  there  not  other  places 
for  Robin  Hood's  hiding?  Cannock  Chase  is  not  far  from  Sherwood,  and  the 
great  Forest  of  Arden  is  not  far  from  Cannock  Chase.  Beside  these  are 
many  other  woodlands  in  Nottingham  and  Derby,  Lincoln  and  York,  amid  any 
of  which  your  majesty  might  as  well  think  to  seize  upon  Robin  Hood  as  to  lay 


236  THE   CHASE   OF  ROBIN  HOOD. 

finger  upon  a  rat  among  the  dust  and  broken  things  of  a  garret.  Nay,  my  gra 
cious  lord,  if  he  doth  once  plant  foot  in  the  woodland,  he  is  lost  to  the  law 
forever." 

At  these  words  the  King  tapped  his  finger-tips  upon  the  table  beside  him 
with  vexation.  "  What  wouldst  thou  have  me  do,  Bishop  ?  "  quoth  he.  "  Didst 
thou  not  hear  me  pledge  my  word  to  the  Queen  ?  Thy  talk  is  as  barren  as  the 
wind  from  the  bellows  upon  dead  coals." 

"  Far  be  it  from  me,"  said  the  cunning  Bishop,  "  to  point  the  way  to  one  so 
clear-sighted  as  your  majesty  ;  but,  were  I  the  King  of  England,  I  should  look 
upon  the  matter  in  this  wise  :  I  have  promised  my  Queen,  let  us  say,  that  for 
forty  days  the  cunningest  rogue  in  all  England  shall  have  freedom  to  come  and 
go  ;  but,  lo  !  I  find  this  outlaw  in  my  grasp  ;  shall  I,  then,  foolishly  cling  to  a 
promise  so  hastily  given  ?  Suppose  that  I  had  promised  to  do  her  majesty's 
bidding,  whereupon  she  bade  me  to  slay  myself  ;  should  I,  then,  shut  mine  eyes 
and  run  blindly  upon  my  sword  ?  Thus  would  I  argue  within  myself.  More 
over,  I  would  say  unto  myself,  a  woman  knoweth  nought  of  the  great  things 
appertaining  to  state  government  ;  and,  likewise,  I  know  a  woman  is  ever  prone 
to  take  up  a  fancy,  even  as  she  would  pluck  a  daisy  from  the  roadside,  and  then 
throw  it  away  when  the  savor  is  gone  ;  therefore,  though  she  hath  taken  a 
fancy  to  this  outlaw,  it  will  soon  wane  away  and  be  forgotten.  As  for  me,  I 
have  the  greatest  villain  in  all  England  in  my  grasp  ;  shall  I,  then,  open  my 
hand  and  let  him  slip  betwixt  my  fingers  ?  Thus,  your  majesty,  would  I  say  to 
The  King  listens  myself,  were  I  the  King  of  England."  So  the  Bishop  talked,  and 
the  KinS  lent  his  ear  to  his  evil  counsel,  until,  after  a  while,  he 


of  Hereford,  and   turned  to  Sir  Robert  Lee,  and  bade  him  send  six  of  the  yeomen 

sends  Sir  Robert       c  ,  ,  «.«.*.«_'*%«••»*          -,-,•, 

Lee  to  do  his  bid-    ot  tne  guard  to  take  Robin  Hood  and  his  three  men  prisoners. 
dmgm  Now  Sir  Robert  Lee  was  a  gentle  and  noble  knight,  and  he 

felt  grieved  to  the  heart  to  see  the  King  so  break  his  promise  ;  nevertheless, 
he  said  nothing,  for  he  saw  how  bitterly  the  King  was  set  against  Robin  Hood  ; 
Sir  Robert  but  he  did  not  send  the  yeomen  of  the  guard  at  once,  but  went 
TTStofJiSR  first  to  the  Queen>  and  told  her  all  that  had  passed,  and  bade  her 
danger.  send  word  to  Robin  of  his  danger.  This  he  did  not  for  the  well- 

being  of  Robin  Hood,  but  because  he  would  save  his  lord's  honor  if  he  could. 
Thus  it  came  about  that  when,  after  a  while,  the  yeomen  of  the  guard  went  to 
the  archery  field,  they  found  not  Robin  and  the  others,  and  so  got  no  cakes  at 
that  fair. 

The  afternoon  was  already  well-nigh  gone  when  Robin  Hood,  Little  John, 
Will,  and  Allan  set  forth  upon  their  homeward  way,  trudging  along  merrily 
through  the  yellow  slanting  light,  which  speedily  changed  to  rosy  red  as  the 


THE   CHASE   OF  ROBIN  HOOD.  237 

sun  sank  low  in  the  heavens.  The  shadows  grew  long,  and  finally  merged  into 
the  grayness  of  the  mellow  twilight.  The  dusty  highway  lay  all  white  betwixt 
the  dark  hedgerows,  and  along  it  walked  the  four  fellows  like  four  shadows,  the 
pat  of  their  feet  sounding  loud,  and  their  voices,  as  they  talked,  ringing  clear 
upon  the  silence  of  the  air.  The  great  round  moon  was  floating  breathlessly 
up  in  the  eastern  sky  when  they  saw  before  them  the  twinkling  lights  of  Bar- 
net  Town,  some  ten  or  twelve  miles  from  London.  Down  they  walked  through 
the  stony  streets  and  past  the  cosy  houses  with  overhanging  gables,  before  the 
doors  of  which  sat  the  burghers  and  craftsmen  in  the  mellow  moonlight,  with 
their  families  about  them,  and  so  came  at  last,  on  the  other  side  of  the  hamlet, 
to  a  little  inn,  all  shaded  with  roses  and  woodbines.  Before  this  inn  Robin 
Hood  stopped,  for  the  spot  pleased  him  well.  Quoth  he,  "Here  Robin  Hood  and 
will  we  take  up  our  inn  and  rest  for  the  night,  for  we  are  well  JSrSSiS^B, 
away  from  London  Town  and  our  King's  wrath.  Moreover,  if  I  at  Barnet  Town, 
mistake  not,  we  will  find  sweet  faring  within.  What  say  ye,  lads  ? " 

"  In  sooth,  good  master,"  quoth  Little  John,  "  thy  bidding  and  my  doing  ever 
fit  together  like  cakes  and  ale.  Let  us  in,  I  say  also." 

Then  up  spake  Will  Scarlet :  "  I  am  ever  ready  to  do  what  thou  sayest,  un 
cle,  yet  I  could  wish  that  we  were  farther  upon  our  way  ere  we  rest  for  the 
night.  Nevertheless,  if  thou  thinkest  best,  let  us  in  for  the  night,  say  I  also." 

So  in  they  went  and  called  for  the  best  that  the  place  afforded.  Then  a 
right  good  feast  was  set  before  them,  with  two  stout  bottles  of  old  sack  to  wash 
it  down  withal.  These  things  were  served  by  as  plump  and  buxom  a  lass  as 
you  could  find  in  all  the  land,  so  that  Little  John,  who  always  had  an  eye  for  a 
fair  lass,  even  when  meat  and  drink  were  by,  stuck  his  arms  akimbo  and  fixed 
his  eyes  upon  her,  winking  sweetly  whenever  he  saw  her  looking  toward  him. 
Then  you  should  have  seen  how  the  lass  twittered  with  laughter,  and  how  she 
looked  at  Little  John  out  of  the  corners  of  her  eyes,  a  dimple  coming  in  either 
cheek  ;  for  the  fellow  had  always  a  taking  way  with  the  women-folk. 

"  Come,  come,  Little  John,"  quoth  Robin,  "  leave  the  lass  in  peace,  and  fall  to 
thy  victuals,  or  thou  wilt  belike  go  with  an  empty  stomach.  Eat  first  and  woo 
afterwards  is  as  good  a  saying  as  one  can  open  ears  to." 

"  Nay,"  quoth  Little  John,  boldly,  "  it  is  an  ill  saying  for  me,  for  who  would 
turn  to  victuals  and  drink  and  let  so  fair  a  lass  go,  without  paying  heed  to  the 
sweet  looks  that  the  blessed  saints  have  bestowed  upon  her  ?  Come  hither, 
thou  dainty  little  duck,  and  pour  forth  some  wine  for  me,  that  I  may  drink  to 
thy  good  health,  and  pray  the  good  Saint  Withold  that  he  send  thee  what  is 
meet,  to  wit,  a  lord  or  an  earl  for  a  husband.  By  my  soul,  I  would  rather  drink 
water  that  thou  hadst  poured  into  my  cup  than  rich  Muscat  after  any  other  she 
in  all  England  !  " 


238  THE  CHASE  OF  ROBIN  HOOD. 

At  this  speech  the  other  yeomen  roared  with  laughter,  and  the  lass  looked 
down,  blushing,  and  thought  that  Little  John  was  as  nice  a  lad  as  she  had  seen 
in  all  her  life. 

So  the  feast  passed  merrily,  and  never  had  that  inn  seen  such  lusty  feeders 
as  these  four  stout  fellows  ;  but  at  last  they  were  done  their  eating,  though 
it  seemed  as  though  they  never  would  have  ended,  and  sat  loitering  over  the 
sack.  As  they  so  sat,  the  landlord  came  in  of  a  sudden,  and  said  that  there 
was  one  at  the  door,  a  certain  young  esquire,  Richard  Partington,  of  the  Queen's 
household,  who  wished  to  see  the  lad  in  blue,  and  speak  with  him,  without  loss 
of  time.  So  Robin  arose  quickly,  and,  bidding  the  landlord  not  to  follow  him, 
left  the  others  gazing  at  one  another,  and  wondering  what  was  about  to  happen. 

When  Robin  came  out  of  the  inn,  he  found  young  Richard  Partington  sitting 
upon  his  horse  in  the  white  moonlight,  awaiting  his  coming. 

"  What  news  bearest  thou,  Sir  Page  ? "  said  Robin.  "  I  trust  that  it  is  not 
of  an  ill  nature." 

"  Why,"  said  young  Partington,  "  for  the  matter  of  that,  it  is  ill  enow.  The 
Young  Richard  King  natn  been  bitterly  stirred  up  against  thee  by  that  vile  Bishop 
Partington  of  Hereford.  He  sent  to  arrest  thee  at  the  archery  butts  at  Fins- 

warns  Kobiii 

Hood  of  his  dan-  bury  Fields,  but  not  finding  thee  there,  he  hath  gathered  together 
his  armed  men,  fiftyscore  and  more,  and  is  sending  them  in  haste 
along  this  very  road  to  Sherwood,  either  to  take  thee  on  the  way  or  to  prevent 
thy  getting  back  to  the  woodlands  again.  He  hath  given  the  Bishop  of  Here 
ford  command  over  all  these  men,  and  thou  knowest  what  thou  hast  to  expect 
of  the  Bishop  of  Hereford  —  short  shrift  and  a  long  rope.  Two  bands  of 
horsemen  are  already  upon  the  road,  not  far  behind  me,  so  thou  hadst  best  get 
thee  gone  from  this  place  straightway,  for,  if  thou  tarriest  longer,  thou  art  like 
to  sleep  this  night  in  a  cold  dungeon.  This  word  the  Queen  hath  bidden  me 
bring  to  thee." 

"  Now,  Richard  Partington,"  quoth  Robin,  "  this  is  the  second  time  that  thou 
hast  saved  my  life,  and  if  the  proper  time  ever  cometh  I  will  show  thee  that 
Robin  Hood  never  forgets  these  things.  As  for  that  Bishop  of  Hereford,  if  I 
ever  catch  him  nigh  to  Sherwood  again,  things  will  be  like  to  go  ill  with  him. 
Thou  mayst  tell  the  good  Queen  that  I  will  leave  this  place  without  delay,  and 
will  let  the  landlord  think  that  we  are  going  to  Saint  Albans  ;  but  when  we  are 
upon  the  high-road  again,  I  will  go  one  way  through  the  country  and  will  send 
my  men  the  other,  so  that  if  one  falleth  into  the  King's  hands  the  others  may 
haply  escape.  We  will  go  by  devious  ways,  and  so,  I  hope,  will  reach  Sher 
wood  in  safety.  And  now,  Sir  Page,  I  wish  thee  farewell." 

"  Farewell,  thou  bold  yeoman,"  said  young  Partington,  "  and  mayst  thou 
reach  thy  hiding  in  safety."  So  each  shook  the  other's  hand,  and  the  lad,  turn- 


THE   CHASE   OF  ROBIN  HOOD.  239 

ing  his  horse's  head,  rode  back  towards  London,  whilst  Robin  entered  the  inn 
once  more. 

There  he  found  his  yeomen  sitting  in  silence,  waiting  his  coming ;  likewise 
the  landlord  was  there,  for  he  was  curious  to  know  what  Master  Partington  had 
to  do  with  the  fellow  in  blue.  "  Up,  my  merry  men  !  "  quoth  Robin,  "this  is 
no  place  for  us,  for  those  are  after  us  with  whom  we  will  stand  but  an  ill  chance 
an  we  fall  into  their  hands.  So  we  will  go  forward  once  more,  Robin  Hood  and 
nor  will  we  stop  this  night  till  we  reach  Saint  Albans.  Hereupon,  his  men  leave  the 
taking  out  his  purse,  he  paid  the  landlord  his  score,  and  so  they 
left  the  inn. 

When  they  had  come  to  the  high-road  without  the  town,  Robin  stopped  and 
told  them  all  that  had  passed  between  young  Partington  and  himself,  and  how 
that  the  King's  men  were  after  them  with  hot  heels.  Then  he  told  them  that 
here  they  should  part  company  ;  they  three  going  to  the  eastward  and  he  to  the 
westward,  and  so,  skirting  the  main  high-roads,  would  come  by  devious  paths  to 
Sherwood.  "  So,  be  ye  wily,"  said  Robin  Hood,  "and  keep  well  away  from  the 
northward  roads  till  ye  have  gotten  well  to  the  eastward.  And  thou,  Will 
Scarlet,  take  the  lead  of  the  others,  for  thou  hast  a  cunning  turn  Rgbin  Hood  and 
to  thy  wits."  Then  Robin  kissed  the  three  upon  the  cheeks,  and  his  merry  men 

......  ,  ,  ,  part  company. 

they  kissed  him,  and  so  they  parted  company. 

Not  long  after  this,  a  score  or  more  of  the  King's  men  came  clattering  up  to 
the  door  of  the  inn  at  Barnet  Town.  Here  they  leaped  from  their  horses  and 
quickly  surrounded  the  place,  the  leader  of  the  band  and  four  The  King's  men 
others  entering  the  room  where  the  yeomen  had  been.  But  they  2J1?JS  j!S 
found  that  their  birds  had  flown  again,  and  that  the  King  had  not. 
been  baulked  a  second  time. 

"  Methought  that  they  were  naughty  fellows,"  said  the  host,  when  he  heard 
who  the  men-at-arms  sought.  "  But  I  heard  that  blue-clad  knave  say  that  they 
would  go  straight  forward  to  Saint  Albans ;  so,  an  ye  hurry  forward,  ye  may, 
perchance,  catch  them  on  the  high-road  betwixt  here  and  there."  For  this 
news  the  leader  of  the  band  thanked  mine  host  right  heartily,  and,  calling  his 
men  together,  mounted  and  set  forth  again,  galloping  forward  to  Saint  Albans 
upon  a  wild-goose  chase. 

After  Little  John  and  Will  Scarlet  and  Allan  a  Dale  had  left  the  highway 
near  Barnet,  they  travelled  toward  the  eastward,  without  stop-  Little  John, 

i  1-1  11  ti  *.•!  ti  Will  Scarlet. 

ping,  as  long  as  their  legs  could  carry  them,  until  they  came  to    and  Allan  j 
Chelmsford,  in  Essex.     Thence  they  turned  northward,  and  came    Dale  get  safely 

'  J  .  back     to     Sher- 

through  Cambridge  and  Lincolnshire,  to  the  good  town  of  Gains-    wood. 
borough.     Then,  striking  to  the  westward  and  the  south,   they  came  at  last 
to  the  northern  borders  of  Sherwood  Forest,  without  in  all  that  time  having 


240  THE  CHASE  OF  ROBIN  HOOD. 

met  so  much  as  a  single  band  of  the  King's  men.  Eight  days  they  journeyed 
thus  ere  they  reached  the  woodlands  in  safety  ;  but  when  they  got  to  the 
greenwood  glade,  they  found  that  Robin  had  not  yet  returned. 

For  Robin  was  not  as  lucky  in  getting  back  as  his  men  had  been,  as  you 
shall  presently  hear. 

After  having  left  the  great  northern  road,  he  turned  his  face  to  the  west- 
Kobin  Hood  ward,  and  so  came  past  Aylesbury,  to  fair  Woodstock,  in  Oxford- 


to  the     snjre>     Thence  he  turned  his  footsteps  northward,  travelling  for 

•westward,  out  is 

not  so  lucky  at  a  great  distance  by  way  of  Warwick  Town,  till  he  came  to  Dud- 
^Aewoodlands  ley,  in  Staffordshire.  Seven  days  it  took  him  to  journey  thus  far, 
again.  an(}  then  he  thought  he  had  gotten  far  enough  to  the  north,  so, 

turning  toward  the  eastward,  shunning  the  main  roads,  and  choosing  byways 
and  grassy  lanes,  he  went,  by  way  of  Litchfield  and  Ashby  de  la  Zouch,  toward 
Sherwood,  until  he  came  to  a  place  called  Stanton.  And  now  Robin's  heart 
began  to  laugh  aloud,  for  he  thought  that  his  danger  had  gone  by,  and  that  his 
nostrils  would  soon  snuff  the  spicy  air  of  the  woodlands  once  again.  But  there 
is  many  a  slip  betwixt  the  cup  and  the  lip,  and  this  Robin  was  to  find.  For 
thus  it  was  :  — 

When  the  King's  men  found  themselves  foiled  at  Saint  Albans,  and  that 
Robin  and  his  men  were  not  to  be  found  high  nor  low,  they  knew  not  what  to 
do.  Presently  another  band  of  horsemen  came,  and  another,  until  all  the 
moonlit  streets  were  full  of  armed  men.  Betwixt  midnight  and  dawn  another 
The  Bishop  of  band  came  to  the  town,  and  with  them  came  the  Bishop  of  Here- 

^os'ainf  Albans,     ford-       When  he  heard  that    R°bin    H°°cl    had    OI1Ce    mOrG    sliPPed 

lut  not  finding  out  of  the  trap,  he  stayed  not  a  minute,  but,  gathering  his  bands 
there,  set°s°  forth  together,  he  pushed  forward  to  the  northward  with  speed,  leav- 
straightway  for  >  orders  for  an  fa  troops  that  came  to  Saint  Albans  to  follow 

JVottingliam- 

shire.  after  him  without  tarrying.     On  the  evening  of  the  fourth  day  he 

reached  Nottingham  Town,  and  there  straightway  divided  his  men  into  bands 
of  six  or  seven,  and  sent  them  all  through  the  countryside,  blocking  every  high 
way  and  byway  to  the  eastward  and  the  southward  and  the  westward  of  Sher 
wood.  The  Sheriff  of  Nottingham  called  forth  all  his  men  likewise,  and  joined 
The  Sheriff  of  with  the  Bishop,  for  he  saw  that  this  was  the  best  chance  that 
Nottingham  ^a(j  ever  befallen  of  paying  back  his  score  in  full  to  Robin 

jotneth  with  the  i       i       i    • 

Bishop  of  Here-  Hood.  Will  Scarlet  and  Little  John  and  Allan  a  Dale  had  just 
{0udt/ieroads°CkS  missed  the  King's  men  to  the  eastward,  for  the  very  next  day 
about  Sherwood.  after  they  had  passed  the  line  and  entered  Sherwood  the  roads 
through  which  they  had  travelled  were  blocked,  so  that,  had  they  tarried  in 
their  journeying,  they  would  surely  have  fallen  into  the  Bishop's  hands. 

But  of  all  this  Robin  knew  not  a  whit  ;  so  he  whistled  merrily  as  he  trudged 


THE   CHASE    OF  ROBIN  HOOD.  243 

along  the  road  beyond  Stanton,  with  his  heart  as  free  from  care  as  the  yolk  of 
an  egg  is  from  cobwebs.  At  last  he  came  to  where  a  little  stream  spread 
across  the  road  in  a  shallow  sheet,  tinkling  and  sparkling  as  it  fretted  over  its 
bed  of  golden  gravel.  Here  Robin  stopped,  being  athirst,  and,  kneeling  down, 
he  made  a  cup  of  the  palms  of  his  hands,  and  began  to  drink.  On  either  side 
of  the  road,  for  a  long  distance,  stood  tangled  thickets  of  bushes  and  young 
trees,  and  it  pleased  Robin's  heart  to  hear  the  little  birds  singing  therein,  for  it 
made  him  think  of  Sherwood,  and  it  seemed  as  though  it  had  been  a  lifetime 
since  he  had  breathed  the  air  of  the  woodlands.  But  of  a  sudden,  as  he  thus 
stooped,  drinking,  something  hissed  past  his  ear,  and  struck  with  a  splash  into 
the  gravel  and  water  beside  him.  Quick  as  a  wink  Robin  sprang  Robin  hath  a 
to  his  feet,  and,  at  one  bound,  crossed  the  stream  and  the  road-  narrow  miss  of 

11  1111  •  1-1  -I  11-  losing  his  life. 

side,  and  plunged  headlong  into  the  thicket,  without  looking 
around,  for  he  knew  right  well  that  that  which  had  hissed  so  venomously  be 
side  his  ear  was  a  gray  goose  shaft,  and  that  to  tarry  so  much  as  a  moment 
meant  death.  Even  as  he  leaped  into  the  thicket  six  more  arrows  rattled 
among  the  branches  after  him,  one  of  which  pierced  his  doublet,  and  would 
have  struck  deeply  into  his  side  but  for  the  tough  coat  of  steel  that  he  wore. 
Then  up  the  road  came  riding  some  of  the  King's  men  at  headlong  speed. 
They  leaped  from  their  horses  and  plunged  straightway  into  the  thicket  after 
Robin.  But  Robin  knew  the  ground  better  than  they  did,  so  crawling  here, 
stooping  there,  and,  anon,  running  across  some  little  open,  he  Robin  Hood  es- 
soon  left  them  far  behind,  coming  out,  at  last,  upon  another  road  ^"/n'tAe"'^* 
about  eight  hundred  paces  distant  from  the  one  he  had  left.  Here  thicket. 
he  stood  for  a  moment,  listening  to  the  distant  shouts  of  the  seven  men  as  they 
beat  up  and  down  in  the  thickets  like  hounds  that  had  lost  the  scent  of  the 
quarry.  Then,  buckling  his  belt  more  tightly  around  his  waist,  he  ran  fleetly 
down  the  road  toward  the  eastward  and  Sherwood. 

But  Robin  had  not  gone  more  than  three  furlongs  in  that  direction  when  he 
came  suddenly  to  the  brow  of  a  hill,  and  saw  beneath  him  another    ^0^n  ff00j 
band  of  the  King's  men  seated  in  the  shade  along  the  roadside  in    findeth  the  road 

111  <-r--i          i  i  •  ift  front  of  him 

the  valley  beneath.     Then  he  paused  not  a  moment,  but,  seeing   blocked  by  the 


that  they  had  not  caught  sight  of  him,  he  turned  and  ran  back 
whence  he  had  come,  knowing  that  it  was  better  to  run  the  chance  of  escaping 
those  fellows  that  were  yet  in  the  thickets  than  to  rush  into  the  arms  of  those 
in  the  valley.  So  back  he  ran  with  all  speed,  and  had  gotten  safely  past  the 
thickets,  when  the  seven  men  came  forth  into  the  open  road.  They  raised  a 
great  shout  when  they  saw  him,  such  as  the  hunter  gives  when  the  deer  breaks 
cover,  but  Robin  was  then  a  quarter  of  a  mile  and  more  away  from  them,  cours 
ing  over  the  ground  like  a  greyhound.  He  never  slackened  his  pace,  but  ran 


244  THE  CHASE  OF  ROBIN  HOOD. 

along,  mile  after  mile,  till  he  had  come  nigh  to  Mackworth,  over  beyond 
Robin  Hood es-  the  Derwent  River,  nigh  to  Derby  Town.  Here,  seeing  that 
capes  present  ^6  was  out  of  present  danger,  he  slackened  in  his  running,  and 
at  last  sat  him  down  beneath  a  hedge  where  the  grass  was 
Rnfatlaeh!dgee.'  the  longest  and  the  shade  the  coolest,  there  to  rest  and  catch 

his  wind. 

"  By  my  soul,  Robin,"  quoth  he  to  himself,  "  that  was  the  narrowest  miss 
that  e'er  thou  hadst  in  all  thy  life.  I  do  say  most  solemnly  that  the  feather 
of  that  wicked  shaft  tickled  mine  ear  as  it  whizzed  past.  This  same  running 
hath  given  me  a  most  craving  appetite  for  victuals  and  drink.  Now  I  pray 
Saint  Dunstan  that  he  send  me  speedily  some  meat  and  beer." 

It  seemed  as  though  Saint  Dunstan  was  like  to  answer  his  prayer,  for  along 
the  road  came  plodding  a  certain  cobbler,  one  Quince,  of  Derby,  who  had  been 
to  take  a  pair  of  shoes  to  a  farmer  nigh  Kirk  Langly,  and  was  now  coming 
back  home  again,  with  a  fair  boiled  capon  in  his  pouch  and  a  stout  pottle  of 
beer  by  his  side,  which  same  the  farmer  had  given  him  for  joy  of  such  a  stout 
pair  of  shoon.  Good  Quince  was  an  honest  fellow,  but  his  wits  were  somewhat 
of  the  heavy  sort,  like  unbaked  dough,  so  that  the  only  thing  that  was  in  his 
mind  was,  "  Three  shillings  sixpence  ha'penny  for  thy  shoon,  good  Quince,  — 
three  shillings  sixpence  ha'penny  for  thy  shoon,"  and  this  travelled  round  and 
round  inside  of  his  head,  without  another  thought  getting  into  his  noddle,  as  a 
pea  rolls  round  and  round  inside  an  empty  quart  pot. 

"  Halloa,  good  friend,"  quoth  Robin,  from  beneath  the  hedge,  when  the  other 
Robin  Hood  call-  had  Sotten  ni&h  enough>  "  whither  away  so  merrily  this  bright 

eth  upon  Quince,     (Jay  ?  " 

&£*£  °f  Hearing  himself  so  called  upon,  the  Cobbler  stopped,  and,  see- 
tarry!  ing  a  we]l-clad  stranger  in  blue,  he  spoke  to  him  in  seemly  wise. 

«  Give  ye  good  den,  fair  sir,  and  I  would  say  that  I  come  from  Kirk  Langly, 
where  I  ha'  sold  my  shoon  and  got  three  shillings  sixpence  ha'penny  for  them 
in  as  sweet  money  as  ever  thou  sawest,  and  honestly  earned  too,  I  would  ha 
thee  know.  But,  an  I  may  be  so  bold,  thou  pretty  fellow,  what  dost  thou  ther 

beneath  the  hedge  ?  " 

"  Marry,"  quoth  merry  Robin,  "  I  sit  beneath  the  hedge  here  to  drop  salt  on 
the  tails  of  golden  birds  ;  but  in  sooth  thou  art  the  first  chick  of 

Robin  telleth  .  ,        „ 

Quince  a  strange   any  worth  I  ha  'seen  this  blessed  day. 

thing'  At  these  words  the  Cobbler's  eyes  opened  big  and  wide,  and  his 

mouth  grew  round  with  wonder,  like  a  knot-hole  in  a  board  fence.  "  Alack-a; 
dav,"  quoth  he,  "  look  ye,  now  !  I  ha'  never  seen  those  same  golden  birds  And 
dost  thou  in  sooth  find  them  in  these  hedges,  good  fellow  ?  Prythee,  tell  me, 
are  there  many  of  them  ?  I  would  fain  find  them  mine  ownself." 


THE   CHASE   OF  ROBIN  HOOD.  245 

"  Ay,  truly,"  quoth  Robin,  "  they  are  as  thick  here  as  fresh  herring  in  Can- 
nock  Chase." 

"  Look  ye,  now  ! "  said  the  Cobbler,  all  drowned  in  wonder.  "And  dost  thou 
in  sooth  catch  them  by  dropping  salt  on  their  pretty  tails  ? " 

"  Yea,"  quoth  Robin,  "  but  this  salt  is  of  an  odd  kind,  let  me  tell  thee,  for  it 
can  only  be  gotten  by  boiling  down  a  quart  of  moonbeams  in  a  wooden  platter, 
and  then  one  hath  but  a  pinch.  But  tell  me,  now,  thou  witty  man,  what  hast 
thou  gotten  there  in  that  pouch  by  thy  side  and  in  that  pottle  ? " 

At  these  words  the  Cobbler  looked  down  at  those  things  of  which  merry  Robin 
spoke,  for  the  thoughts  of  the  golden  bird  had  driven  them  from  his  mind,  and 
it  took  him  some  time  to  scrape  the  memory  of  them  back  again.  "Why,"  said 
he  at  last,  "  in  the  one  is  good  March  beer,  and  in  the  other  is  a  fat  capon. 
Truly,  Quince  the  Cobbler  will  ha'  a  fine  feast  this  day  an  I  mistake  not." 

"  But  tell  me,  good  Quince,"  said  Robin,  "  hast  thou  a  mind  to  sell  those 
things  to  me  ?  for  the  hearing  of  them  sounds  sweet  in  mine  ears.  I  will  give 
thee  these  gay  clothes  of  blue  that  I  have  upon  my  body  and  ten  shillings  to 
boot  for  thy  clothes  and  thy  leather  apron  and  thy  beer  and  thy  capon.  What 
sayst  thou,  bully  boy  ?  " 

"  Nay,  thou  dost  jest  with  me,"  said  the  Cobbler,  "for  my  clothes  are  coarse 
and  patched,  and  thine  are  of  fine  stuff  and  very  pretty." 

"  Never  a  jest  do  I  speak,"  quoth  Robin.     "  Come,  strip  thy  jacket  off  and 
I  will  show  thee,  for  I  tell  thee  I  like  thy  clothes  well.     Moreover,  I  will  be 
kind  to  thee,  for  I  will  feast  straightway  upon  the  good  things  thou  hast  with 
thee,  and  thou  shalt  be  bidden  to  the  eating."     At  these  words  he  began  slip 
ping  off  his  doublet,  and  the  Cobbler,  seeing  him  so  in  earnest,    Robin  Hood  and 
began  peeling  off  his  clothes  also,  for  Robin  Hood's  garb  tickled    $£%'££*' 
his  eye.     So  each  put  on  the  other  fellow's  clothes,  and  Robin    change  clothes. 
gave  the  honest  Cobbler  ten  bright  new  shillings.     Quoth  merry  Robin,  "I  ha' 
been  a  many  things  in  my  life  before,  but  never  have  I  been  an  honest  cobbler. 
Come,  friend,  let  us  fall  to  and   eat,  for  something  within  me    Robin  Hood  and 
cackles  aloud  for  that  good  fat  capon."     So  both  sat  down  and    Quince  feast  to- 
began  to  feast  right  lustily,  so  that  when  they  were  done  the 
bones  of  the  capon  were  picked  as  bare  as  charity. 

Then  Robin  stretched  his  legs  out  with  a  sweet  feeling  of  comfort  within 
him.  Quoth  he,  "  By  the  turn  of  thy  voice,  good  Quince,  I  know  that  thou  hast 
a  fair  song  or  two  running  loose  in  thy  head  like  colts  in  a  meadow.  I  prythee, 
turn  one  of  them  out  for  me." 

"  A  song  or  two  I  ha',"  quoth  the  Cobbler  ;  "  poor  things  ;  poor  things  ;  but 
such  as  they  are  thou  art  welcome  to  one  of  them."     So,  moisten-    Quince  singetk 
ing  his  throat  with  a  swallow  of  beer,  he  began  to  sing  thus  :  —       a  merry  SOH8- 


246  THE   CHASE   OF  ROBIN  HOOD. 

"  Of  all  the  joys,  the  best  I  love, 

Sing  hey  my  frisking  Nan,  O, 
And  that  which  most  my  soul  doth  move, 
It  is  the  clinking  can,  O. 

"  All  other  bliss  I'd  throw  away, 
Sing  hey  my  frisking  Nan,  O, 
But  this  "  — 

The  stout  Cobbler  got  no  further  in  his  song,  for  of  a  sudden  six  horsemen 
The  Kings  men  burst  upon  them  where  they  sat,  and  seized  roughly  upon  the 
SQuin/e°the  Cob-  nonest:  craftsman,  hauling  him  to  his  feet,  and  nearly  plucking 
bier.  the  clothes  from  him  as  they  did  so.  "  Ha  !  "  roared  the  leader 

of  the  band  in  a  great  big  voice  of  joy,  "  have  we  then  caught  thee  at  last,  thou 
blue-clad  knave  ?  Now,  blessed  be  the  name  of  Saint  Hubert,  for  we  are  four 
score  pounds  richer  this  minute  than  we  were  before,  for  the  good  Bishop  of 
Hereford  hath  promised  that  much  to  the  band  that  shall  bring  thee  to  him. 
Oho  !  thou  cunning  rascal !  thou  wouldst  look  so  innocent,  forsooth  !  We  know 
thee,  thou  old  fox.  But  off  thou  goest  with  us  to  have  thy  brush  clipped  forth 
with."  At  these  words  the  poor  Cobbler  gazed  all  around  him  with  his  great 
blue  eyes  as  round  as  those  of  a  dead  fish,  while  his  mouth  gaped  as  though  he 
had  swallowed  all  his  words  and  so  lost  his  speech. 

Robin  also  gaped  and  stared  in  a  wondering  way,  just  as  the  Cobbler  would 
have  done  in  his  place.  "  Alack-a-daisy,  me,"  quoth  he.  "I  know  not  whether 
I  be  sitting  here  or  in  no-man's  land !  What  meaneth  all  this  stir  i'  th'  pot, 
dear  good  gentlemen  ?  Surely  this  is  a  sweet,  honest  fellow." 

"'Honest  fellow,'  sayst  thou,  clown  ?"  quoth  one  of  the  men.  "Why,  I  tell 
thee  that  this  is  that  same  rogue  that  men  call  Robin  Hood." 

At  this  speech  the  Cobbler  stared  and  gaped  more  than  ever,  for  there  was 
such  a  threshing  of  thoughts  going  on  within  his  poor  head  that  his  wits  were 
all  befogged  with  the  dust  and  chaff  thereof.  Moreover,  as  he  looked  at  Robin 
Hood,  and  saw  the  yeoman  look  so  like  what  he  knew  himself  to  be,  he  began 
to  doubt  and  to  think  that  mayhap  he  was  the  great  outlaw  in  real  sooth.  Said 
he  in  a  slow,  wondering  voice,  "  Am  I  in  very  truth  that  fellow  ?  —  Now  I  had 
thought  —  but  nay,  Quince,  thou  art  mistook — yet — am  I  ?  —  Nay,  I  must  in 
deed  be  Robin  Hood  !  Yet,  truly,  I  had  never  thought  to  pass  from  an  honest 
craftsman  to  such  a  great  yeoman." 

"Alas  !  "  quoth  Robin  Hood,  "look  ye  there,  now  !  See  how  your  ill-treat 
ment  hath  curdled  the  wits  of  this  poor  lad  and  turned  them  all  sour  !  I,  my 
self,  am  Quince,  the  Cobbler  of  Derby  Town." 

"  Is  it  so  ? "  said  Quince.     "  Then,  indeed,  I  am  somebody  else,  and  can  be 


THE   CHASE    OF  ROB7N  HOOD.  247 

none  other  than  Robin  Hood.     Take  me,  fellows ;  but  let  me  tell  you  that  ye 
ha'  laid  hand  upon  the  stoutest  yeoman  that  ever  trod  the  woodlands." 

"  Thou  wilt  play  madman,  wilt  thou  ?  "  said  the  leader  of  the  band.     "  Here, 
Giles,  fetch  a  cord  and  bind  this  knave's  hands  behind  him.     I 

.,,  .          -ii  •  •  The  Kings  men 

warrant  we  will  bring  his  wits  back  to  him  again  when  we  get    take  Quince 
him  safe  before  our  good  Bishop  at  Tutbury  Town."     Thereupon   'S^K^Srf 
they  tied  the  Cobbler's  hands  behind  him,  and  led  him  off  with  a    Hereford  at 

.         ,  .        ,         rr      ,  ,  -   ,  .  Jutbury  Town. 

rope,  as  the  farmer  leads  off  the  calf  he  hath  brought  from  the 
fair.  Robin  stood  looking  after  them,  and  when  they  were  gone  he  laughed  till 
the  tears  rolled  down  his  cheeks  ;  for  he  knew  that  no  harm  would  befall  the 
honest  fellow,  and  he  pictured  to  himself  the  Bishop's  face  when  good  Quince 
was  brought  before  him  as  Robin  Hood.  Then,  turning  his  steps  once  more  to 
the  eastward,  he  stepped  out  right  foot  foremost  toward  Nottinghamshire  and 
Sherwood  Forest. 

But  Robin  Hood  had  gone  through  more  than  he  wotted  off.     His  journey 
from  London  had  been  hard  and  long,  and  in  a  se'ennight  he  had  travelled 
sevenscore  and  more  of  miles.     He  thought  now  to  travel  on  without  stopping 
until  he  had  come  to  Sherwood,  but  ere  he  had  gone  a  half  a  score  of  miles  he 
felt  his  strength  giving  way  beneath  him  like  a  river  bank  which  the  waters 
have  undermined.     He  sat  him  down  and  rested,  but  he  knew  within  himself 
that  he  could  go  no  farther  that  day,  for  his  feet  felt  like  lumps  of  lead,  so  heavy 
were  they  with  weariness.     Once  more  he  arose  and  went  forward,  but  after 
travelling  a  couple  of  miles  he  was  fain  to  give  the  matter  up,  so,  coming  to  an 
inn  just  then,  he  entered,  and  calling  the  landlord  bade  him  show    Robin  Hoo^ 
him  to  a  room,  although  the  sun  was  only  then  just  sinking  in  the    being  aweary 
western  sky.     There  were  but  three  bedrooms  in  the  place,  and    mn  for* the 
to  the  meanest  of  these  the  landlord  showed  Robin  Hood,  but    night- 
little  Robin  cared  for  the  looks  of  the  place,  for  he  could  have  slept  that  night 
upon  a  bed  of  broken  stones.     So,  stripping  off  his  clothes  without  more  ado, 
he  rolled  into  the  bed  and  was  asleep  almost  ere  his  head  touched  the  pillow. 

Not  long  after  Robin  had  so  gone  to  his  rest  a  great  cloud  peeped  blackly 
over  the  hills  to  the  westward.     Higher  and  higher  it  arose  until  it  piled  up 
into  the  night  like  a  mountain  of  darkness.     All  around  beneath  it  came  ever 
and  anon  a  dull  red  flash,  and  presently  a  short  grim  mutter  of  the  coming 
thunder  was  heard.     Then  up  rode  four  stout"  burghers  of  Nottingham  Town, 
for  this  was  the  only  inn  within  five  miles'  distance,  and  they  did    Four  biirghers  of 
not  care  to  be  caught  in  such  a  thunder-storm  as  this  that  was    ^wngcometo 
coming  upon  them.     Leaving  their  nags  to  the  stableman,  they    the  inn  also. 
entered  the  best  room  of  the  inn,  where  fresh  green  rushes  lay  all  spread  upon 
the  floor,  and  there  called  for  the  goodliest  fare  that  the  place  afforded.     After 


248  THE  CHASE  OF  ROBIN  HOOD. 

having  eaten  heartily  they  bade  the  landlord  show  them  to  their  rooms,  for  they 
were  aweary,  having  ridden  all  the  way  from  Dronfield  that  day.  So  off  they 
went,  grumbling  at  having  to  sleep  two  in  a  bed,  but  their  troubles  on  this 
score,  as  well  as  all  others,  were  soon  lost  in  the  quietness  of  sleep. 

And  now  came  the  first  gust  of  wind,  rushing  past  the  place,  clapping  and 
The  storm  bring-  banging  the  doors  and  shutters,  smelling  of  the  coming  rain,  and 
'EmmeTto  °(he  a^  wrapped  in  a  cloud  of  dust  and  leaves.  As  though  the  wind 
inn  likewise.  had  brought  a  guest  along  with  it,  the  door  opened  of  a  sudden 
and  in  came  a  friar  of  F^mmet  Priory,  and  one  in  high  degree,  as  was  shown  by 
the  softness  and  sleekness  of  his  robes  and  the  richness  of  his  rosary.  He 
called  to  the  landlord,  and  bade  him  first  have  his  mule  well  fed  and  bedded  in 
the  stable,  and  then  to  bring  him  the  very  best  there  was  in  the  house.  So 
presently  a  savory  stew  of  tripe  and  onions,  with  sweet  little  fat  dumplings,  was 
set  before  him,  likewise  a  good  stout  pottle  of  Malmsey,  and  straightway  the 
holy  friar  fell  to  with  great  courage  and  heartiness,  so  that  in  a  short  time 
nought  was  left  but  a  little  pool  of  gravy  in  the  centre  of  the  platter,  not  large 
enow  to  keep  the  life  in  a  starving  mouse. 

In  the  mean  time  the  storm  broke.  Another  gust  of  wind  went  rushing  by, 
and  with  it  fell  a  few  heavy  drops  of  rain,  which  presently  came  rattling  down 
in  showers,  beating  against  the  casements  like  a  hundred  little  hands.  Bright 
flashes  of  lightning  lit  up  every  raindrop,  and  with  them  came  cracks  of  thunder 
that  went  away  rumbling  and  bumping  as  though  Saint  Swithin  were  busy  roll 
ing  great  casks  of  water  across  rough  ground  overhead.  The  women-folks 
screamed,  and  the  merry  wags  in  the  tap  room  put  their  arms  around  their 
waists  to  soothe  them  into  quietness. 

At  last  the  holy  friar  bade  the  landlord  show  him  to  his  room  ;  but  when  he 

heard  that  he  was  to  bed  with  a  cobbler,  he  was  as  ill  contented  a 

likes  not  to  sleep    fellow  as  you  could  find  in  all  England,  nevertheless  there  was 


he  notnin»  ^or  ^>  and  he  must  sleep  there  or  nowhere  ;  so,  taking  up 
thinkethisa  his  candle,  he  went  off,  grumbling  like  the  now  distant  thunder. 
When  he  came  to  the  room  where  he  was  to  sleep  he  held  the 
light  over  Robin  and  looked  at  him  from  top  to  toe  ;  then  he  felt  better  pleased, 
for,  instead  of  a  rough,  dirty-bearded  fellow,  he  beheld  as  fresh  and  clean  a  lad 
as  one  could  find  in  a  week  of  Sundays  ;  so,  slipping  off  his  clothes,  he  also 
huddled  into  the  bed,  where  Robin,  grunting  and  grumbling  in  his  sleep,  made 
room  for  him.  Robin  was  more  sound  asleep,  I  wot,  than  he  had  been  for  many 
a  day,  else  he  would  never  have  rested  so  quietly  with  one  of  the  friar's  sort  so 
close  beside  him.  As  for  the  friar,  had  he  known  whom  Robin  Hood  was,  you 
may  well  believe  he  would  almost  as  soon  have  slept  with  an  adder  as  with  the 
man  he  had  for  a  bedfellow. 


THE    CHASE    OF  ROBIN  HOOD.  249 

So  the  night  passed  comfortably  enough,  but  at  the  first  dawn  of  day  Robin 
opened  his  eyes  and  turned  his  head  upon  the  pillow.     Then  how    R0un  Hood  is 
he  gaped  and  how  he  stared,  for  there  beside  him  lay  one  all    amazed  at  his 
shaven  and  shorn,  so  that  he  knew  it  must  be  a  fellow  in  holy 
orders.     He  pinched  himself  sharply,  but,  finding  he  was  awake,  sat  up  in  bed, 
whilst  the  other  slumbered  as  peacefully  as  though  he  were  safe  and  sound  at 
home  in  Emmet  Priory.     "  Now,"  quoth  Robin  to  himself,  "  I  wonder  how  this 
thing  hath  dropped  into  my  bed  during  the  night."     So  saying  he  arose  softly, 
so  as  not  to  waken  the  other,  and  looking  about  the  room  he  espied  the  Friar's 
clothes  lying  upon  a  bench  near  the  wall.     First  he  looked  at  the  clothes,  with 
his  head  on  one  side,  and  then  he  looked  at  the  Friar  and  slowly  winked  one 
eye.     Quoth  he,  "  Good  brother,  What-e'er-thy-name-may-be,  as  thou  hast  bor 
rowed  my  bed  so  freely  I  '11  e'en  borrow  thy  clothes  in  return."    Robin  Hood  bor- 
So  saying,  he  straightway  donned  the  holy  man's  garb,  but  kindly    ^|^  ^fhim  of 
left  the  cobbler's  clothes  in  the  place  of  it.     Then  he  went  forth    Emmet. 
into  the  freshness  of  the  morning,  and  the  stableman  that  was  up  and  about 
the  stables  opened  his  eyes  as  though  he  saw  a  green  mouse  before  him,  for 
such  men  as  the  friar  of  Emmet  were  not  wont  to  be  early  risers  ;  but  the  man 
bottled  his  thoughts,  and  only  asked  Robin  whether  he  wanted  his  mule  brought 
from  the  stable. 

"  Yea,  my  son,"  quoth  Robin,  —  albeit  he  knew  nought  of  the  mule,  —  "  and 
bring  it  forth  quickly,  I  prythee,  for  I  am  late  and  must  be  jogging."  So  pres 
ently  the  stableman  brought  forth  the  mule,  and  Robin  mounted  it  and  went 
on  his  way  rejoicing. 

As  for  the  holy  friar,  when  he  arose  he  was  in  as  pretty  a  stew  as  any  man 
in  all  the  world,  for  his  rich,  soft  robes  were  gone,  likewise  his  purse  with  ten 
golden  pounds  in  it,  and  nought  was  left  but  patched  clothes  and  a  leathern 
apron.  He  raged  and  swore  like  any  layman,  but  as  his  swearing  mended 
nothing  and  the  landlord  could  not  aid  him,  and  as,  moreover,  he  was  forced  to 
be  at  Emmet  Priory  that  very  morning  upon  matters  of  business,  The  brother  of 
he  was  fain  either  to  don  the  cobbler's  clothes  or  travel  the  road  Emmet  dons  the 
in  nakedness.  So  he  put  on  the  clothes,  and,  still  raging  and  a*j  goetk  kis 
swearing  vengeance  against  all  the  cobblers  in  Derbyshire,  he  set  w"y- 
forth  upon  his  way  afoot  ;  but  his  ills  had  not  yet  done  with  him,  for  he  had 
not  gone  far  ere  he  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  King's  men,  who  marched  him 
off,  willy  nilly,  to  Tutbury  Town  and  the  Bishop  of  Hereford.  The  brother  of 


In  vain  he  swore  he  was  a  holy  man,  and  showed  his  shaven 


crown  ;  off  he  must  go,  for  nothing  would  do  but  that  he  was    the  King's  men. 
none  other  than  Robin  Hood. 

Meanwhile  merry  Robin  rode  along  contentedly,  passing  safely  by  two  bands 


250  THE  CHASE  OF  ROBIN  HOOD. 

of  the  King's  men,  until  his  heart  began  to  dance  within  him  because  of  the 
nearness  of  Sherwood  ;  so  he  travelled  ever  on  to  the  eastward,  till,  of  a  sud 
den,  he  met  a  noble  knight  in  a  shady  lane.  Then  Robin  checked  his  mule 
quickly,  and  leaped  from  off  its  back.  "  Now,  well  met,  Sir  Richard  of  the 
Robin  Hood  Lea,"  cried  he,  "for  rather  than  any  other  man  in  England  would 

nRichahrdSiof  the  l  see  th7  Sood  face  this  day  !  "  Then  he  told  Sir  Richard  all  the 
Lea  and  telieth  happenings  that  had  befallen  him,  and  that  now  at  last  he  felt 
tures.  himself  safe,  being  so  nigh  to  Sherwood  again.  But  when  Robin 

had  done,  Sir  Richard  shook  his  head  sadly.  "  Thou  art  in  greater  danger 
Sir  Richard  now,  Robin,  than  thou  hast  yet  been,"  said  he,  "for  before  thee 
shoiveth  Robin  jje  bands  of  the  Sheriff's  men  blocking  every  road  and  letting 

that  he  is  in  .  '    .     .     J 

greater  danger  none  pass  through  the  lines  without  examining  them  closely.  I 
advis^him™  myself  know  this,  having  passed  them  but  now.  Before  thee  lie 
what  to  do.  the  Sheriff's  men  and  behind  thee  the  King's  men,  and  thou  canst 
not  hope  to  pass  either  way,  for  by  this  time  they  will  know  of  thy  disguise, 
and  will  be  in  waiting  to  seize  upon  thee.  My  castle  and  everything  within  it 
are  thine,  but  nought  could  be  gained  there,  for  I  could  not  hope  to  hold  it 
against  such  a  force  as  is  now  in  Nottingham  of  the  King's  and  the  Sheriff's 
men."  Having  so  spoken,  Sir  Richard  bent  his  head  in  thought,  and  Robin 
felt  his  heart  sink  within  him  like  that  of  the  fox  that  hears  the  hounds  at  his 
heels,  and  finds  his  den  blocked  with  earth  so  that  there  is  no  hiding  for  him. 
But  presently  Sir  Richard  spoke  again,  saying,  "  One  thing  thou  canst  do, 
Robin,  and  one  only.  Go  back  to  London  and  throw  thyself  upon  the  mercy 
of  our  good  Queen  Eleanor.  Come  with  me  straightway  to  my  castle.  Doff 
these  clothes  and  put  on  such  as  my  retainers  wear.  Then  I  will  hie  me  to 
London  Town  with  a  troop  of  men  behind  me,  and  thou  shalt  mingle  with 
them,  and  thus  will  I  bring  thee  to  where  thou  mayst  see  and  speak  with  the 
Queen.  Thy  only  hope  is  to  get  to  Sherwood,  for  there  none  can  reach  thee, 
and  thou  wilt  never  get  to  Sherwood  but  in  this  way." 

So  Robin  went  with  Sir  Richard  of  the  Lea,  and  did  as  he  said,  for  he  saw 
the  wisdom  of  that  which  the  knight  advised,  and  that  this  was  his  only  chance 
of  safety. 

Queen  Eleanor  walked  in  her  royal  garden,  amid  the  roses  that  bloomed 
sweetly,  and  with  her  walked  six  of  her  ladies-in-waiting,  chattering-  blithely 
together.  Of  a  sudden  a  man  leaped  up  to  the  top  of  the  wall  from  the  other 
Robin  Hood  side,  and  then,  hanging  for  a  moment,  dropped  lightly  upon  the 
thrawetJi  himself  p-rass  within.  All  the  ladies-in-waiting  shrieked  at  the  sudden- 

upon  Queen    c.1-     c> 

eanor's  mercy.  ness  of  his  coming,  but  the  man  ran  to  the  Queen  and  kneeled 
at  her  feet,  and  she  saw  it  was  Robin  Hood. 


THE   CHASE    OF  ROBIN  HOOD.  251 

"  Why,  how  now,  Robin  !  "  cried  she,  "  dost  thou  dare  to  come  into  the  very 
jaws  of  the  raging  lion  ?  Alas,  poor  fellow !  thou  art  lost  indeed  if  the  King 
finds  thee  here.  Dost  thou  not  know  that  he  is  seeking  thee  through  all  the 
land  ? " 

"  Yea,"  quoth  Robin,  "  I  do  know  right  well  that  the  King  seeks  me,  and 
therefore  I  have  come ;  for,  surely,  no  ill  can  befall  me  when  he  hath  pledged 
his  royal  word  to  your  majesty  for  my  safety.  Moreover,  I  know  your  majes 
ty's  kindness  and  gentleness  of  heart,  and  so  I  lay  my  life  freely  in  your  gra 
cious  hands." 

"I  take  thy  meaning,  Robin  Hood,"  said  the  Queen,  "and  that  thou  dost 
convey  reproach  to  me,  as  well  thou  mayst,  for  I  know  that  I  have  not  done  by 
thee  as  I  ought  to  have  done.  I  know  right  well  that  thou  must  have  been  hard 
pressed  by  peril  to  leap  so  boldly  into  one  danger  to  escape  another.  Once 
more  I  promise  thee  mine  aid,  and  will  do  all  I  can  to  send  thee  back  in  safety 
to  Sherwood  Forest.  Bide  thou  here  till  I  return."  So  saying,  she  left  Robin 
in  the  garden  of  roses,  and  was  gone  a  long  time. 

When  she  came  back  Sir  Robert  Lee  was  with  her,  and  the  Queen's  cheeks 
were  hot  and  the  Queen's  eyes  were  bright,  as  though  she  had  been  talking 
with  high  words.  Then  Sir  Robert  came  straight  forward  to  where  Robin 
Hood  stood,  and  he  spoke  to  the  yeoman  in  a  cold,  stern  voice.  Quoth  he, 
"  Our  gracious  Sovereign  the  King  hath  mitigated  his  wrath  toward  thee,  fel 
low,  and  hath  once  more  promised  that  thou  shalt  depart  in  peace  and  safety. 
Not  only  hath  he  promised  this,  but  in  three  days  he  will  send  one  of  his  pages 
to  go  with  thee  and  see  that  none  arrest  thy  journey  back  again.  Thou  mayst 
thank  thy  patron  saint  that  thou  hast  such  a  good  friend  in  our  sir  Robert  Lee 
noble  Queen,  for,  but  for  her  persuasion  and  arguments,  thou  reprovcth  Robin 
hadst  been  a  dead  man,  I  can  tell  thee.  Let  this  peril  that  thou 
hast  passed  through  teach  thee  two  lessons.  First,  be  more  honest.  Second, 
be  not  so  bold  in  thy  comings  and  goings.  A  man  that  walketh  in  the  dark 
ness  as  thou  dost  may  escape  for  a  time,  but  in  the  end  he  will  surely  fall  into 
the  pit.  Thou  hast  put  thy  head  in  the  angry  lion's  mouth,  and  yet  thou  hast 
escaped  by  a  miracle.  Try  it  not  again."  So  saying,  he  turned  and  left  Robin 
and  was  gone. 

For  three  days  Robin  abided  in  London  in  the  Queen's  household,  and  at 
the  end  of  that  time  the  King's  head  page,  Edward  Cunningham,  came,  and  tak 
ing  Robin  with  him,  departed  northward  upon  his  way  to  Sherwood.  Now 
and  then  they  passed  bands  of  the  King's  men  coming  back  Robin  Hoodget. 
again  to  London,  but  none  of  those  bands  stopped  them,  and  so,  teth  back  safe  to 

Shenvood. 

at  last,  they  reached  the  sweet,  leafy  woodlands. 

Thus  end  the  merry  adventures  which  befell  Robin  Hood  when  he  went  to 


252 


THE   CHASE   OF  ROBIN  HOOD. 


the  famous  shooting-match  at  London  Town.  And  now  we  will  hear  of  how 
the  Bishop  of  Hereford  and  the  Sheriff  of  Nottingham  sought  once  more  to 
take  him  in  a  different  way.  Likewise  we  will  hear  how  merry  King  Richard 
of  the  Lion's  Heart  visited  Robin  Hood  in  the  depths  of  Sherwood  Forest. 


RobinHood 

Slayefh 
Guy 


RoBlN-and-LiTTLE-JoHN-  go. 

5  e  arch .  of-  Adventure : 


...  J 


f-X 


PART  EIGHTH. 

which  it  is  fold  how  Robin  Hood  met  Guy  of  Gisbourne  in  Sher 
wood  Forest,  and  of  the  famous  fight  betwixt  them.  Also,  how  Little 
John  fell  into  the  Sheriff's  hands  through  saving  the  life  of  three 
men.  Likewise,  it  is  told  how  good  King  Richard  of  the  Lions 
Heart  came  to  Nottinghamshire  and  visited  Robin  Hood  in  Sher 
wood  Forest. 

'     I.  "•    '•"'.          f: 

Robin  Hood  and   Guy  of  Gisbourne. 

LONG  time  passed  after  the  great  shooting-match,  and 
during  that  time  Robin  followed  one  part  of  the  advice 
of  Sir  Robert  Lee,  to  wit,  that  of  being  less  bold  in  his 
comings  and  his  goings  ;  for  though  mayhap  he  may 
not  have  been  more  honest  (as  most  folks  regard  hon 
esty),  he  took  good  care  not  to  travel  so  far  from  Sher 
wood  that  he  could  not  reach  it  again  both  easily  and 
quickly. 
Great  changes  had  fallen  in  this  time  ;  for  King  Henry  had  died  and  King 


256  ROBIN  HOOD  AND   GUY  OF  GISBOURNE. 

Richard  had  come  to  the  crown  that  fitted  him  so  well  through  many  hard 
King  Richard  trials,  and  through  adventures  as  stirring  as  any  that  ever  befell 
^onl'o/Eng-  Robin  Hood-  But  though  great  changes  came,  they  did  not 
land.  reach  to  Sherwood's  shades,  for  there  Robin  Hood  and  his  men 

dwelt  as  merrily  as  they  had  ever  done,  with  hunting  and  feasting  and  singing 
and  blithe  woodland  sports  ;  for  it  was  little  the  outside  striving  of  the  world 
troubled  them. 

The  dawning  of  a  summer's  day  was  fresh  and  bright,  and  the  birds  sang 
sweetly  in  a  great  tumult  of  sound.  So  loud  was  their  singing  that  it  awakened 
Robin  Hood  where  he  lay  sleeping,  so  that  he  stirred,  and  turned,  and  arose. 
Up  rose  Little  John  also,  and  all  the  merry  men  ;  then,  after  they  had  broken 
their  fast,  they  set  forth  hither  and  thither  upon  the  doings  of  the  day. 

Robin  Hood  and  Little  John  walked  down  a  forest  path  where  all  around 
Robin  Hood  and  the  leaves  danced  and  twinkled  as  the  breeze  trembled  through 
jortk  hflk/for-  them  and  the  sunlight  came  flickering  down.  Quoth  Robin  Hood, 
est.  "  I  make  my  vow,  Little  John,  my  blood  tickles  my  veins  as  it 

flows  through  them  this  gay  morn.  What  sayst  thou  to  our  seeking  adven 
tures,  each  one  upon  his  own  account  ?" 

"  With  all  my  heart,"  said  Little  John.  "  We  have  had  more  than  one  pleas 
ant  doing  in  that  way,  good  master.  Here  are  two  paths  ;  take  thou  the  one  to 
the  right  hand,  and  I  will  take  the  one  to  the  left,  and  then  let  us  each  walk 
straight  ahead  till  he  tumble  into  some  merry  doing  or  other." 

"  I  like  thy  plan,"  quoth  Robin,  "  therefore  we  will  part  here.  But  look  thee, 
Little  John,  keep  thyself  out  of  mischief,  for  I  would  not  have  ill  befall  thee  for 
all  the  world." 

"Marry  come  up,"  quoth  Little  John,  "how  thou  talkest !  Methinks  thou  art 
wont  to  get  thyself  into  tighter  coils  than  I  am  like  to  do." 

At  this  Robin  Hood  laughed.  "  Why,  in  sooth,  Little  John,"  said  he,  "  thou 
hast  a  blundering  hard-headed  way  that  seemeth  to  bring  thee  right  side  upper- 
Robin  Hood  and.  most  in  all  thy  troubles  ;  but  let  us  see  who  cometh  out  best  this 

MfrJ«j*£%  day-"  So  sayinS>  he  claPPed  his  Palm  to  Little  J°hn's  and  each 
seek  adventure,  departed  upon  his  way,  the  trees  quickly  shutting  the  one  from 

the  other's  sight. 

Robin  Hood  strolled  onward  till  he  came  to  where  a  broad  woodland  road 
stretched  before  him.  Overhead  the  branches  of  the  trees  laced  together  in 
flickering  foliage,  all  golden  where  it  grew  thin  to  the  sunlight ;  beneath  his 
feet  the  ground  was  soft  and  moist  from  the  sheltering  shade.  Here  in  this 
pleasant  spot  the  sharpest  adventure  that  ever  befell  Robin  Hood  came  upon 
him  ;  for,  as  he  walked  down  the  woodland  path  thinking  of  nought  but  the 
songs  of  the  birds,  he  came  of  a  sudden  to  where  a  man  was  seated  upon 


ROBIN  HOOD  AND    GUY  OF  GISBOURNE. 


257 


the  mossy  roots  beneath  the  shade  of  a  broad-spreading  oak  tree.     Robin  Hood 
saw  that  the  stranger  had  not  caught  sight  of  him,  so  he  stopped    Robin  Hood 
and  stood  quite  still,  looking  at  the  other  a  long  time  before  he    co?uth  uf°"a 

1  strange-looking 

came  forward.  And  the  stranger,  I  wot,  was  well  worth  looking  »tan. 
at,  for  never  had  Robin  seen  a  figure  like  that  sitting  beneath  the  tree.  From 
his  head  to  his  feet  he  was  clad  in  a  horse's  hide,  dressed  with  the  hair  upon 
it.  Upon  his  head  was  a  cowl  that  hid  his  face  from  sight,  and  which  was  made 
of  the  horse's  skin,  the  ears  whereof  stuck  up  like  those  of  a  rabbit.  His  body 
was  clad  in  a  jacket  made  of  the  hide,  and  his  legs  were  covered  with  the  hairy 
skin  likewise.  By  his  side  was  a  heavy  broadsword  and  a  sharp,  double-edged 
dagger.  A  quiver  of  smooth  round  arrows  hung  across  his  shoulders,  and  his 
stout  bow  of  yew  leaned  against  the  tree  beside  him. 

"  Halloa,  friend,"  cried  Robin,  coming  forward  at  last,  "  who  art  thou  that 
sittest  there  ?  And  what  is  that  that  thou  hast  upon  thy  body  ?  I  make  my 
vow  I  ha'  never  seen  such  a  sight  in  all  my  life  before.  Had  I  done  an  evil 
thing,  or  did  my  conscience  trouble  me,  I  would  be  afraid  of  thee,  thinking  that 
thou  wast  some  one  from  down  below  bringing  a  message  bidding  me  come 
straightway  to  King  Nicholas." 

To  this  speech  the  other  answered  not  a  word,  but  he  pushed  the  cowl  back 
from  his  head  and  showed  a  knit  brow,  a  hooked  nose,  and  a  pair  of  fierce,  rest 
less,  black  eyes,  which  altogether  made  Robin  think  of  a  hawk  as  he  looked  on 
his  face.  But  beside  this  there  was  something  about  the  lines  on  the  stranger's 
face,  and  his  thin  cruel  mouth,  and  the  hard  glare  of  his  eyes,  that  made  one's 
flesh  creep  to  look  upon. 

"  Who  art  thou,  rascal  ? "  said  he  at  last,  in  a  loud,  harsh  voice. 

"  Tut,  tut,"  quoth  merry  Robin,  "  speak  not  so  sourly,  brother.  Has  thou 
fed  upon  vinegar  and  nettles  this  morning  that  thy  speech  is  so  stinging  ? " 

"  An  thou  likest  not  my  words,"  said  the  other,  fiercely,  "  thou  hadst  best  be 
jogging,  for  I  tell  thee  plainly,  my  deeds  match  them." 

"  Nay,  but  I  do  like  thy  words,  thou  sweet,  pretty  thing,"  quoth  Robin,  squat 
ting  down  upon  the  grass  in  front  of  the  other  ;  "  moreover,  I  tell  thee  thy 
speech  is  witty  and  gameson  as  any  I  ever  heard  in  all  my  life." 

The  other  said  not  a  word,  but  he  glared  upon  Robin  with  a  wicked  and 
baleful  look,  such  as  a  fierce  dog  bestows  upon  a  man  ere  it  springs  at  his 
throat.  Robin  returned  the  gaze  with  one  of  wide-eyed  innocence,  not  a  shadow 
of  a  smile  twinkling  in  his  eyes  or  twitching  at  the  corners  of  his  mouth.  So 
they  sat  staring  at  one  another  for  a  long  time,  until  the  stranger  broke  the 
silence  suddenly.  "  What  is  thy  name,  fellow  ? "  said  he. 

"  Now,"  quoth  Robin,  "  I  am  right  glad  to  hear  thee  speak,  for  I  began  to 
fear  the  sight  of  me  had  stricken  thee  dumb.     As  for  my  name,  it  may  be  this 
17 


258  ROBIN  HOOD  AND   GUY  OF  GISBOURNE. 

or  it  may  be  that ;  but  methinks  it  is  more  meet  for  thee  to  tell  me  thine,  see 
ing  that  thou  art  the  greater  stranger  in  these  parts.  Prythee,  tell  me,  sweet 
chuck,  why  wearest  thou  that  dainty  garb  upon  thy  pretty  body  ? " 

"  At  these  words  the  other  broke  into  a  short,  harsh  roar  of  laughter.  "  By 
Guy  of  Gis-  the  bones  of  the  Daemon  Odin,"  said  he,  "  thou  art  the  boldest 
bourne  telleth  Ms  spoken  man  that  ever  I  have  seen  in  all  my  life.  I  know  not  why 

story  to  Robin  •  r  i  ^ 

Hood.  I  do  not  smite  thee  down  where  thou  sittest,  for  only  two  days 

ago  I  skewered  a  man  over  back  of  Nottingham  Town  for  saying  not  half  so 
much  to  me  as  thou  hast  done.  I  wear  this  garb,  thou  fool,  to  keep  my  body 
warm  ;  likewise  it  is  near  as  good  as  a  coat  of  steel  against  a  common  sword- 
thrust.  As  for  my  name,  I  care  not  who  knoweth  it.  It  is  Guy  of  Gisbourne, 
and  thou  mayst  have  heard  it  before.  I  come  from  the  woodlands  over  in 
Herefordshire,  upon  the  lands  of  the  Bishop  of  that  ilk.  I  am  an  outlaw,  and 
get  my  living  by  hook  and  by  crook  in  a  manner  it  boots  not  now  to  tell  of. 
Not  long  since  the  Bishop  sent  for  me,  and  said  that  if  I  would  do  a  certain 
thing  that  the  Sheriff  of  Nottingham  would  ask  of  me,  he  would  get  me  a  free 
pardon,  and  give  me  tenscore  pounds  to  boot.  So  straightway  I  came  to  Not 
tingham  Town  and  found  my  sweet  Sheriff ;  and  what  thinkest  thou  he  wanted 
of  me  ?  Why,  forsooth,  to  come  here  to  Sherwood  to  hunt  up  one  Robin  Hood, 
also  an  outlaw,  and  to  take  him  alive  or  dead.  It  seemeth  that  they  have  no 
one  here  to  face  that  bold  fellow,  and  so  sent  all  the  way  to  Herefordshire,  and 
to  me,  for  thou  knowest  the  old  saying,  '  Set  a  thief  to  catch  a  thief.'  As  for 
the  slaying  of  this  fellow,  it  galleth  me  not  a  whit,  for  I  would  shed  the  blood 
of  my  own  brother  for  the  half  of  two  hundred  pounds." 

To  all  this  Robin  listened,  and  as  he  listened  his  gorge  rose.  Well  he  knew 
of  this  Guy  of  Gisbourne,  and  of  all  the  bloody  and  murderous  deeds  that  he 
had  done  in  Herefordshire,  for  his  doings  were  famous  throughout  all  the  land. 
Yet,  although  he  loathed  the  very  presence  of  the  man,  he  held  his  peace,  for 
he  had  an  end  to  serve.  -''Truly,"  quoth  he,  "  I  have  heard  of  thy  gentle  doings. 
Methinks  there  is  no  one  in  all  the  wide  world  that  Robin  Hood  would  rather 
meet  than  thee." 

At  this  Guy  of  Gisbourne  gave  another  harsh  laugh.  "  Why,"  quoth  he,  "  it 
is  a  merry  thing  to  think  of  one  stout  outlaw  like  Robin  Hood  meeting  another 
stout  outlaw  like  Guy  of  Gisbourne.  Only  in  this  case  it  will  be  an  ill  happen 
ing  for  Robin  Hood,  for  the  day  he  meets  Guy  of  Gisbourne  he  shall  die." 

"  But  thou  gentle,  merry  spirit,"  quoth  Robin,  "dost  thou  not  think  that  may 
hap  this  same  Robin  Hood  may  be  the  better  man  of  the  two  ?  I  know  him 
right  well,  and  many  think  that  he  is  one  of  the  stoutest  men  hereabouts." 

"  He  may  be  the  stoutest  of  men  hereabouts,"  quoth  Guy  of  Gisbourne,  "yet, 
I  tell  thee,  fellow,  this  sty  of  yours  is  not  the  wide  world.  I  lay  my  life  upon 


ROBIN  HOOD  AND    GUY  OF  GISBOURNE.  259 

it  I  am  the  better  man  of  the  two.  He  an  outlaw,  forsooth  !  why  I  hear  that 
he  hath  never  let  blood  in  all  his  life,  saving  when  he  first  came  to  the  forest. 
Some  call  him  a  great  archer  ;  marry,  I  would  not  be  afraid  to  stand  against 
him  all  the  days  of  the  year  with  a  bow  in  my  hand." 

"  Why,  truly,  some  folk  do  call  him  a  great  archer,"  said  Robin  Hood  ;  "  but 
we  of  Nottinghamshire  are  famous  hands  with  the  long  bow.  Even  I,  though 
but  a  simple  hand  at  the  craft,  would  not  fear  to  try  a  bout  with  thee." 

At  these  words  Guy  of  Gisbourne  looked  upon  Robin  with  wondering  eyes, 
and  then  gave  another  roar  of  laughter  till  the  woods  rang.  "  Now,"  quoth  he, 
"  thou  art  a  bold  fellow  to  talk  to  me  in  this  way.  I  like  thy  spirit  in  so  speak 
ing  up  to  me,  for  few  men  have  dared  to  do  so.  Put  up  a  garland,  lad,  and  I 
will  try  a  bout  with  thee." 

"  Tut,  tut,"  quoth  Robin,  "  only  babes  shoot  at  garlands  hereabouts.     I  will 
put  up  a  good  Nottingham  mark  for  thee."     So  saying  he  arose,    Robin  Hood  sfff 
and  going  to  a  hazel  thicket  not  far  off,  he  cut  a  wand  about  twice    «/  a  mark  for 
the  thickness  of  a  man's  thumb.     From  this  he  peeled  the  bark,    bourne  to  shoot 
and,  sharpening  the  point,  stuck  it  up  in  the  ground  in  front  of  a    at' 
great  oak  tree.     Thence  he  measured  off  fourscore  paces,  which  brought  him 
beside  the  tree  where  the  other  sat.     "  There,"  quoth  he,  "  is  the  kind  of  mark 
that  Nottingham  yeomen  shoot  at.     Now  let  me  see  thee  split  that  wand  if 
thou  art  an  archer." 

Then  Guy  of  Gisbourne  arose.  "  Now  out  upon  it  !  "  cried  he.  "  The  Devil 
himself  could  not  hit  such  a  mark  as  that." 

"  Mayhap  he  could  and  mayhap  he  could  not,"  quoth  merry  Robin,  "  but  that 
we  shall  never  know  till  thou  hast  shot  thereat." 

At  these  words  Guy  of  Gisbourne  looked  upon  Robin  with  knit  brows,  but, 
as  the  yeoman  still  looked  innocent  of  any  ill  meaning,  he  bottled  his  words 
and  strung  his  bow  in  silence.     Twice  he  shot,  but  neither  time  did  he  hit  the 
wand,  missing  it  the  first  time  by  a  span  and  the  second  time  by    G      /•  G-s_ 
a  good  palm's  breadth.     Robin   laughed  and  laughed.     "  I  see   bourne  misseth 
now,"  quoth  he,  "  that  the  Devil  himself  could  not  hit  that  mark. 
Good  fellow,  if  thou  art  no  better  with  the  broadsword  than  thou  art  with  the 
bow  and  arrow,  thou  wilt  never  overcome  Robin  Hood." 

At  these  words  Guy  of  Gisbourne  glared  savagely  upon  Robin.  Quoth  he, 
"  thou  hast  a  merry  tongue,  thou  villain  ;  but  take  care  that  thou  makest  not 
too  free  with  it,  or  I  may  cut  it  out  from  thy  throat  for  thee." 

Robin  Hood  strung  his  bow  and  took  his  place  with  never  a  word,  albeit  his 
heartstrings  quivered  with  anger  and  loathing.  Twice  he  shot,  the  first  time 
hitting  within  an  inch  of  the  wand,  the  second  time  splitting  it  fairly  in  the 
middle.  Then,  without  giving  the  other  a  chance  for  speech,  he  flung  his  bow 


260  ROBIN  HOOD  AND   GUY  OF  GISBOURNE. 

upon  the  ground.  "  There,  thou  bloody  villain  !  "  cried  he,  fiercely,  "  let  that 
Robin  Hood  out-  snow  thee  how  little  thou  knowest  of  manly  sports.  And  now 
shoots  Guy  of  look  thy  last  upon  the  daylight,  for  the  good  earth  hath  been  be 
fouled  long  enough  by  thee,  thou  vile  beast  !  This  day,  Our  Lady 
willing,  thou  diest  —  I  am  Robin  Hood."  So  saying,  he  flashed  forth  his  bright 
sword  in  the  sunlight. 

For  a  time  Guy  of  Gisbourne  stared  upon  Robin  as  though  bereft  of  wits ; 
but  his  wonder  quickly  passed  to  a  wild  rage.  "  Art  thou  indeed  Robin  Hood  ? " 
cried  he.  "  Now  I  am  glad  to  meet  thee,  thou  poor  wretch !  Shrive  thyself, 
for  thou  wilt  have  no  time  for  shriving  when  I  am  done  with  thee."  So  saying, 
he  also  drew  his  sword. 

And  now  came  the  fiercest  fight  that  ever  Sherwood  saw  ;  for  each  man 
Robin  Hood  knew  that  either  he  or  the  other  must  die,  and  that  no  mercy 

fiGihsbeourneUwit°h       WES  tO  be  had  in    this    battle"       UP   and   d°wn   they  Alight,  till    all 

his  sword.  the  sweet  green    grass  was    crushed   and   ground    beneath   the 

trampling  of  their  heels.  More  than  once  the  point  of  Robin  Hood's  sword 
felt  the  softness  of  flesh,  and  presently  the  ground  began  to  be  sprinkled  with 
bright  red  drops,  albeit  not  one  of  them  came  from  Robin's  veins.  At  last 
Guy  of  Gisbourne  made  a  fierce  and  deadly  thrust  at  Robin  Hood,  from  which 
he  leaped  back  lightly,  but  in  so  leaping  he  caught  his  heel  in  a  root,  and  fell 
heavily  upon  his  back.  "  Now,  Holy  Mary  aid  me!  "  muttered  he,  as  the  other 
leaped  at  him,  with  a  grin  of  rage  upon  his  face.  Fiercely  Guy  of  Gisbourne 
stabbed  at  the  other  with  his  great  sword  ;  but  Robin  caught  the  blade  in  his 
naked  hand,  and,  though  it  cut  his  palm,  he  turned  the  point  away  so  that  it 
plunged  deep  into  the  ground  close  beside  him  ;  then,  ere  a  blow  could  be 
struck  again,  he  leaped  to  his  feet,  with  his  good  sword  in  his  hand.  And  now 
despair  fell  upon  Guy  of  Gisbourne's  heart  in  a  black  cloud,  and  he  looked 
around  him  wildly,  like  a  wounded  hawk.  Seeing  that  his  strength  was  going 
from  him,  Robin  leaped  forward,  and,  quick  as  a  flash,  struck  a  back-handed 
blow  beneath  the  sword  arm.  Down  fell  the  sword  from  Guy  of  Gisbourne's 
grasp,  and  back  he  staggered  at  the  stroke,  and,  ere  he  could  regain  himself, 
Rokin  Hood sJa  R°bin's  sword  passed  through  and  through  his  body.  Round  he 
eth  Guy  of  Gis-  spun  upon  his  heel,  and,  flinging  his  hands  aloft  with  a  shrill,  wild 

cry,  fell  prone  upon  his  face  upon  the  green  sod. 

Then  Robin  Hood  wiped  his  sword  and  thrust  it  back  into  the  scabbard, 
and,  coming  to  where  Guy  of  Gisbourne  lay,  he  stood  over  him  with  folded 
arms,  talking  to  himself  the  while.  "  This  is  the  first  man  I  have  slain  since  I 
shot  the  King's  forester  in  the  hot  days  of  my  youth.  I  ofttimes  think  bitterly, 
even  yet,  of  that  first  life  I  took,  but  of  this  I  am  as  glad  as  though  I  had  slain 
a  wild  boar  that  lay  waste  a  fair  country.  Since  the  Sheriff  of  Nottingham  hath 


ROBIN  HOOD  AND   GUY  OF  GISBOURNE.  261 

sent  such  a  one  as  this  against  me,  I  will  put  on  the  fellow's  garb  and  go  forth 
to  see  whether  I  may  not  find  his  worship,  and  perchance  pay  him  back  some 
of  the  debt  I  owe  him  upon  this  score." 

So  saying,  Robin  Hood  stripped  the  hairy  garments  from  off  the  dead  man, 
and  put  them  on  himself,  all  bloody  as  they  were.     Then,  strap-    Robin  Hood  put- 
ping  the  other's  sword  and  dagger  around  his  body  and  carrying    te^fs°"u^Hl/s  °^ 
his  own  in  his  hand,  together  with  the  two  bows  of  yew,  he  drew    clothes. 
the  cowl  of  horse's  hide  over  his  face,  so  that  none  could  tell  who  he  was,  and 
set  forth  from  the  forest,  turning  his  steps  toward  the  eastward  and  Notting 
ham  Town.     As  he  strode  along  the  country  roads,  men,  women,  and  children 
hid  away  from  him,  for  the  terror  of  Guy  of  Gisbourne's  name  and  of  his  do 
ings  had  spread  far  and  near. 

And  now  let  us  see  what  befell  Little  John  while  these  things  were  hap 
pening. 

Little  John  walked  on  his  way  through  the  forest  paths  until  he  had  come  to 
the  outskirts  of  the  woodlands,  where,  here  and  there,  fields  of  barley,  corn,  or 
green  meadow  lands  lay  smiling  in  the  sun.  So  he  came  to  the  high-road  and 
to  where  a  little  thatched  cottage  stood  back  of  a  cluster  of  twisted  crab-trees, 
with  flowers  in  front  of  it.  Here  he  stopped  of  a  sudden,  for  he  thought  that 
he  heard  the  sound  of  some  one  in  sorrow.  He  listened,  and  ,..,,  ~, 

Little  John 

found  that  it  came  from  the  cottage  ;  so,  turning  his  footsteps    heareth  some  one 
thither,  he  pushed  open  the  wicket  and  entered  the  place.    There 
he  saw  a  gray-haired  dame  sitting  beside  a  cold  hearthstone,  rocking  herself  to 
and  fro  and  weeping  bitterly. 

Now  Little  John  had  a  tender  heart  for  the  sorrows  of  other  folk,  so,  coming 
to  the  old  woman  and  patting  her  kindly  upon  the  shoulder,  he  spoke  comfort 
ing  words  to  her,  bidding  her  cheer  up  and  tell  him  her  troubles,  for  that  may 
hap  he  might  do  something  to  ease  them.  At  all  this  the  good  dame  shook 
her  head  ;  but  all  the  same  his  kind  words  did  soothe  her  somewhat,  so  after 
a  while  she  told  him  all  that  bore  upon  her  mind.  That  that  morning  she  had 
three  as  fair,  tall  sons  beside  her  as  one  could  find  in  all  Netting-  The  widmu  iel^ 
hamshire,  but  that  they  were  now  taken  from  her,  and  were  like  etk  Little  John 
to  be  hanged  straightway  ;  that,  want  having  come  upon  them, 
her  eldest  boy  had  gone  out,  the  night  before,  into  the  forest,  and  had  slain  a 
hind  in  the  moonlight ;  that  the  King's  rangers  had  followed  the  blood  upon 
the  grass  until  they  had  come  to  her  cottage,  and  had  there  found  the  deer's 
meat  in  the  cupboard  ;  that,  as  neither  of  the  younger  sons  would  betray  their 
brother,  the  foresters  had  taken  all  three  away,  in  spite  of  the  oldest  saying 
that  he  alone  had  slain  the  deer ;  that,  as  they  went,  she  had  heard  the  rangers 
talking  among  themselves,  saying  that  the  Sheriff  had  sworn  that  he  would  put 


262  ROBIN  HOOD  AND   GUY  OF  GISBOURNE. 

a  check  upon  the  great  slaughter  of  deer  that  had  been  going  on  of  late  by 
hanging  the  very  first  rogue  caught  thereat  upon  the  nearest  tree,  and  that 
they  would  take  the  three  youths  to  the  King's  Head  Inn,  near  Nottingham 
Town,  where  the  Sheriff  was  abiding  that  day,  there  to  await  the  return  of  a 
certain  fellow  he  had  sent  into  Sherwood  to  seek  for  Robin  Hood. 

To  all  this  Little  John  listened,  shaking  his  head  sadly  now  and  then. 
"Alas,"  quoth  he,  when  the  good  dame  had  finished  her  speech,  "this  is  in 
deed  an  ill  case.  But  who  is  this  that  goeth  into  Sherwood  after  Robin  Hood, 
and  why  doth  he  go  to  seek  him  ?  But  no  matter  for  that  now  ;  only  that  I 
would  that  Robin  Hood  were  here  to  advise  us.  Nevertheless,  no  time  may  be 
lost  in  sending  for  him  at  this  hour,  if  we  would  save  the  lives  of  thy  three 
sons.  Tell  me,  hast  thou  any  clothes  hereabouts  that  I  may  put  on  in  place  of 
these  of  Lincoln  green?  Marry,  if  our  stout  Sheriff  catcheth  me  without  dis 
guise,  I  am  like  to  be  run  up  more  quickly  than  thy  sons,  let  me  tell  thee, 
dame." 

Then  the  old  woman  told  him  that  she  had  in  the  house  some  of  the  clothes 
Little  John  dis-  of  her  good  husband,  who  had  died  only  two  years  before.  These 


n    she  brought   to   Little  John,  who,   doffing  his  garb  of  Lincoln 


herd  's  clothes.  green,  put  them  on  in  its  stead.  Then,  making  a  wig  and  false 
beard  of  uncarded  wool,  he  covered  his  own  brown  hair  and  beard,  and,  putting 
on  a  great,  tall  hat  that  had  belonged  to  the  old  peasant,  he  took  his  staff  in 
one  hand  and  his  bow  in  the  other,  and  set  forth  with  all  speed  to  where  the 
Sheriff  had  taken  up  his  inn. 

A  mile  or  more  from  Nottingham  Town,  and  not  far  from  the  southern  bor 
ders  of  Sherwood  Forest,  stood  the  cosy  inn  bearing  the  sign  of  the  King's 
Head.  Here  was  a  great  bustle  and  stir  on  this  bright  morning,  for  the  Sher 
iff  and  a  score  of  his  men  had  come  to  stop  there  and  await  Guy  of  Gisbourne's 
return  from  the  forest.  Great  hiss  and  fuss  of  cooking  was  going  on  in  the 
The  Sheriff  of  kitchen,  and  great  rapping  and  tapping  of  wine  kegs  and  beer 
Nottingham  barrels  was  goinsr  on  in  the  cellar.  The  Sheriff  sat  within,  feast- 

abideth  merrily       ,  ~  ., 

at  the  King's  ing  merrily  of  the  best  the  place  afforded,  and  the  Sheriffs  men 
sat  upon  the  bench  before  the  door,  quaffing  ale,  or  lay  beneath 
the  shade  of  the  broad-spreading  oak  trees,  talking  and  jesting  and  laughing. 
All  around  stood  the  horses  of  the  band,  with  a  great  noise  of  stamping  feet 
and  a  great  switching  of  tails.  To  this  inn  came  the  King's  rangers,  driving 
the  widow's  three  sons  before  them.  The  hands  of  the  three  youths  were  tied 
The  -widow's  tightly  behind  their  backs,  and  a  cord  from  neck  to  neck  fastened 
three  sons  are  them  all  together.  So  they  were  marched  to  the  room  where  the 

brought  before  ....  •  ««.**•'«•  i  11 

the  sheriff  of     Sheriff  sat  at  meat,  and  stood  trembling  before  him  as  he  scowled 

Nottingham. 


ROBIN  HOOD  AND   GUY  OF  GISBOURNE.  263 

"  So,"  quoth  he,  in  a  great,  loud,  angry  voice,  "  ye  have  been  poaching  upon 
the  King's  deer,  have  you  ?  Now  I  will  make  short  work  of  you  this  day,  for  I 
will  hang  up  all  three  of  you  as  a  farmer  would  hang  up  three  crows  to  scare 
others  of  the  kind  from  the  field.  Our  fair  county  of  Nottingham  hath  been 
too  long  a  breeding-place  for  such  naughty  knaves  as  ye  are.  I  have  put  up 
with  these  things  for  many  years,  but  now  I  will  stamp  them  out  once  for  all, 
and  with  you  I  will  begin." 

Then  one  of  the  poor  fellows  opened  his  mouth  to  speak,  but  the  Sheriff 
roared  at  him  in  a  loud  voice  to  be  silent,  and  bade  the  rangers  to  take  them 
away  till  he  had  done  his  eating  and  could  attend  to  the  matters  concerning 
them.  So  the  three  poor  youths  were  marched  outside,  where  they  stood  with 
bowed  heads  and  despairing  hearts,  till  after  a  while  the  Sheriff  came  forth. 
Then  he  called  his  men  about  him,  and  quoth  he,  "  These  three  villains  shall 
be  hanged  straightway,  but  not  here,  lest  they  breed  ill-luck  to  this  goodly  inn. 
We  will  take  them  over  yonder  to  that  belt  of  woodlands,  for  I  would  fain  hang 
them  upon  the  very  trees  of  Sherwood  itself,  to  show  those  vile  outlaws  therein 
what  they  may  expect  of  me  if  I  ever  have  the  good  luck  to  lay  hands  upon 
them."  So  saying  he  mounted  his  horse,  as  did  his  men-at-arms  likewise,  and 
altogether  they  set  forth  for  the  belt  of  woodlands  he  had  spoken  of,  the  poor 
youths  walking  in  their  midst  guarded  by  the  rangers.  So  they  came  at  last 
to  the  spot,  and  here  nooses  were  fastened  around  the  necks  of  the  three,  and 
the  ends  of  the  cords  flung  over  the  branch  of  a  great  oak  tree  that  stood  there. 
Then  the  three  youths  fell  upon  their  knees  and  loudly  besought  mercy  of  the 
Sheriff  ;  but  the  Sheriff  of  Nottingham  laughed  scornfully.  "  Now,"  quoth  he, 
"  I  would  that  I  had  a  priest  here  to  shrive  you ;  but,  as  none  is  nigh,  you  must 
e'en  travel  your  road  with  all  your  sins  packed  upon  your  backs,  and  trust  to 
Saint  Peter  to  let  you  in  through  the  gates  of  Paradise  like  three  pedlers  into 
the  town." 

In  the  mean  time,  whilst  all  this  had  been  going  forward,  an  old  man  had 
drawn  near  and  stood  leaning  on  his  staff,  looking  on.  His  hair  and  beard  were 
all  curly  and  white,  and  across  his  back  was  a  bow  of  yew  that  looked  much  too 
strong  for  him  to  draw.  As  the  Sheriff  looked  around  ere  he  ordered  his  men 
to  string  the  three  youths  up  to  the  oak  tree,  his  eyes  fell  upon  this  strange  old 
man.  Then  his  worship  beckoned  to  him,  saying,  "  Come  hither,  The  Sheri/ 
father,  I  have  a  few  words  to  say  to  thee."  So  Little  John,  for  it  ffj^ftvA 
was  none  other  than  he,  came  forward,  and  the  Sheriff  looked  the  curly  hair. 
upon  him  thinking  that  there  was  something  strangely  familiar  in  the  face  be 
fore  him.  "  How,  now,"  said  he,  "  methinks  I  have  seen  thee  before.  What 
may  thy  name  be,  father  ? " 

"  Please  your  worship,"  said  Little  John,  in  a  cracked  voice  like  that  of  an 
old  man,  "  my  name  is  Giles  Hobble,  at  your  worship's  service." 


264  ROBIN  HOOD  AND   GUY  OF  GISBOURNE. 

"  Giles  Hobble  ;  Giles  Hobble ; "  muttered  the  Sheriff  to  himself,  turning 
over  the  names  that  he  had  in  his  mind  to  try  to  find  one  to  fit  to  this.  "  I 
remember  not  thy  name,"  said  he  at  last,  "but  it  matters  not.  Hast  thou  a 
mind  to  earn  sixpence  this  bright  morn  ? " 

"Ay,  marry,"  quoth  Little  John,  "for  money  is  not  so  plenty  with  me  that 
I  should  cast  sixpence  away  an  I  could  earn  it  by  an  honest  turn.  What  is  it 
your  worship  would  have  me  do  ? " 

"  Why,  this,"  said  the  Sheriff.  "  Here  are  three  men  that  need  hanging  as 
badly  as  any  e'er  I  saw.  If  thou  wilt  string  them  up  I  will  pay  thee  twopence 
apiece  for  them.  I  like  not  that  my  men-at-arms  should  turn  hangmen.  Wilt 
thou  try  thy  hand  ?" 

"  In  sooth,"  said  Little  John,  still  in  the  old  man's  voice,  "  I  ha'  never  done 
Little  John  sucn  a  thing  before  ;  but  an  a  sixpence  is  to  be  earned  so  easily 
promises  to  hang  \  might  as  well  ha'  it  as  anybody.  But,  your  worship,  are  these 

the widow 's  three  f  . 

sons  for  six-         naughty  fellows  shrived  ? 

}*""•  "  Nay,"  said  the  Sheriff,  laughing,  "  never  a  whit  ;  but  thou 

mayst  turn  thy  hand  to  that  also  if  thou  art  so  minded.  But  hasten,  I  prythee, 
for  I  would  get  back  to  mine  inn  betimes." 

So  Little  John  came  to  where  the  three  youths  stood  trembling,  and,  putting 
his  face  to  the  first  fellow's  cheek  as  though  he  were  listening  to  him,  he  whis 
pered  softly  into  his  ear,  "  Stand  still,  brother,  when  thou  feelest  thy  bonds  cut, 
but  when  thou  seest  me  throw  my  woollen  wig  and  beard  from  my  head  and 
Little  John  face,  cast  the  noose  from  thy  neck  and  run  for  the  woodlands." 
loosens  the  bonds  Then  he  j  j  t  t^  cord  that  bound  the  youth's  hands  ;  who, 

that  oina  the  J   J  * 

three  youths,  upon  his  part,  stood  still  as  though  he  were  yet  bound.  Then  he 
went  to  the  second  fellow,  and  spoke  to  him  in  the  same  way,  and  also  cut  his 
bonds.  This  he  did  to  the  third  likewise,  but  all  so  slyly  that  the  Sheriff,  who 
sat  upon  his  horse  laughing,  wotted  not  what  was  being  done,  nor  his  men 
either. 

Then  Little  John  turned  to  the  Sheriff.     "  Please  your  worship,"  said  he, 
"  will  you  give  me  leave  to  string  my  bow  ?  for  I  would  fain  help  these  fellows 
along  the  way,  when  they  are  swinging,  with  an  arrow  beneath  the  ribs." 
The  Sheriff^-        "  With  all  my  heart,"  said  the  Sheriff,  "  only,  as  I  said  before, 

%££&£  ™ke thou  haste  in  thy  doings-" 

his  bow.  Little  John  put  the  tip  of  his  bow  to  his  instep,  and  strung  the 

weapon  so  deftly  that  all  wondered  to  see  an  old  man  so  strong.  Next  he  drew 
a  good  smooth  arrow  from  his  quiver  and  fitted  it  to  the  string  ;  then,  looking 
all  around  to  see  that  the  way  was  clear  behind  him,  he  suddenly  cast  away  the 
wool  from  his  head  and  face,  shouting  in  a  mighty  voice,  "  Run  !  "  Quick  as 
a  flash  the  three  youths  flung  the  nooses  from  their  necks  and  sped  across  the 


ROBIN  HOOD  AND   GUY  OF  GISBOURNE.  265 

open  to  the  woodlands  as  the  arrow  speeds  from  the  bow.  Little  John  also  flew 
toward  the  covert  like  a  greyhound,  while  the  Sheriff  and  his  Little  john  and 
men  gazed  after  him  all  bewildered  with  the  sudden  doing.  But  the  widow's  three 
ere  the  yeoman  had  gone  far  the  Sheriff  roused  himself.  "  After  ' 
him  ! "  he  roared  in  a  mighty  voice  ;  for  he  knew  now  who  it  was  with  whom 
he  had  been  talking,  and  wondered  that  he  had  not  known  him  before. 

Little  John  heard  the  Sheriff's  words,  and  seeing  that  he  could  not  hope  to 
reach  the  woodlands  before  they  would  be  upon  him,  he  stopped  and  turned 
suddenly,  holding  his  bow  as  though  he  were  about  to  shoot.  "  Stand  back  !  " 
cried  he,  fiercely.  "  The  first  man  that  cometh  a  foot  forward,  or  toucheth 
finger  to  bowstring,  dieth  ! " 

At  these  words  the  Sheriff's  men  stood  as  still  as  stocks,  for  they  knew  right 
well  that  Little  John  would  be  as  good  as  his  word,  and  that  to  disobey  him 
meant  death.     In  vain  the  Sheriff  roared  at  them,  calling  them  cowards,  and 
urging  them  forward  in  a  body  ;  they  would  not  budge  an  inch,  but  stood  and 
watched  Little  John  as  he  moved  slowly  away  toward  the  forest,  keeping  his 
gaze  fixed  upon  them.     But  when  the  Sheriff  saw  his  enemy  thus  slipping 
betwixt  his  fingers  he  grew  mad  with  his  rage,  so  that  his  head  swam  and  he 
knew  not  what  he  did.     Then  of  a  sudden  he  turned  his  horse's  head,  and 
plunging  his  spurs  into  its  sides  he  gave  a  great  shout,  and,  rising  in  his  stir 
rups,  came  down  upon  Little  John  like  the  wind.     Then  Little  John  raised  his 
deadly  bow  and  drew  the  gray  goose  feather  to  his  cheek.     But  alas  for  him  ! 
for,  ere  he  could  loose  the  shaft,  the  good  bow  that  had  served  him  so  long, 
split  in  his  hands,  and  the  arrow  fell  harmless  at  his  feet.     Seeing  what  had 
happened,  the  Sheriff's  men  raised  a  shout,  and,  following  their  master,  came 
rushing  down  upon  Little  John.     But  the  Sheriff  was  ahead  of  the  others,  and 
so  caught  up  with  the  yeoman  before  he   reached  the  shelter  of    The  sheria- 
the  woodlands,  then  leaning  forward   he  struck  a  mighty  blow,    striketh  down 
Little  John  ducked  and  the  Sheriff's  sword  turned  in  his  hand,    the  flat  of  his 
but  the  flat  of  the  blade  struck  the  other  upon  the  head  and    sword- 
smote  him  down,  stunned  and  senseless. 

"  Now,  I  am  right  glad,"  said  the  Sheriff,  when  the  men  came  up  and  found 
that  Little  John  was  not  dead,  "  that  I  have  not  slain  this  man  in  my  haste  ! 
I  would  rather  lose  five  hundred  pounds  than  have  him  die  thus  instead  of 
hanging,  as  such  a  vile  thief  should  do.  Go,  get  some  water  from  yonder  foun 
tain,  William,  and  pour  it  over  his  head." 

The  man  did  as  he  was  bidden,  and  presently  Little  John  opened  his  eyes 
and  looked  around  him,  all  dazed  and  bewildered  with  the  stun  of  the  blow. 
Then  they  tied  his  hands  behind  him,  and  lifting  him  up  set  him  upon  the 
back  of  one  of  the  horses,  with  his  face  to  its  tail  and  his  feet  strapped  beneath 


266  ROBIN  HOOD  AND    GUY  OF  GJSBOURNE. 

its  belly.  So  they  took  him  back  to  the  King's  Head  Inn,  laughing  and  rejoic 
ing  as  they  went  along.  But  in  the  mean  time  the  widow's  three  sons  had 
gotten  safely  away,  and  were  hidden  in  the  woodlands. 

Once  more  the  Sheriff  of  Nottingham  sat  within  the  King's  Head  Inn.  His 
heart  rejoiced  within  him,  for  he  had  at  last  done  that  which  he  had  sought  to 
do  for  years,  taken  Little  John  prisoner.  Quoth  he  to  himself,  "  This  time  to 
morrow  the  rogue  shall  hang  upon  the  gallows  tree  in  front  of  the  great  gate 
of  Nottingham  Town,  and  thus  shall  I  make  my  long  score  with  him  even." 
So  saying  he  took  a  deep  draught  of  Canary.  But  it  seemed  as  if  the  Sheriff 
had  swallowed  a  thought  with  his  wine,  for  he  shook  his  head  and  put  the  cup 
down  hastily.  "  Now,"  he  muttered  to  himself,  "  I  would  not  for  a  thousand 
pounds  have  this  fellow  slip  through  my  ringers  ;  yet,  should  his  master  escape 
that  foul  Guv  of  Gisbourne,  there  is  no  knowing  what  he  may  do, 

The  Sheriff  of        .  '  .  ..    ,  ,  ,  ,  •  -r,    i  • 

Nottingham  for  he  is  the  cunnmgest  knave  m  all  the  world, —  this  same  Robin 
^Sn  Hood  will  Hood.  Belike  I  had  better  not  wait  until  to-morrow  to  hang  the 
rescue  Little  fellow."  So  saying,  he  pushed  his  chair  back  hastily,  and  going 
forth  from  the  inn  called  his  men  together.  Quoth  he,  "  I  will 
wait  no  longer  for  the  hanging  of  this  rogue,  but  it  shall  be  done  forthwith,  and 
that  from  the  very  tree  whence  he  saved  those  three  young  villains  by  stepping 
so  boldly  betwixt  them  and  the  law.  So  get  ye  ready  straightway." 

Then  once  more  they  sat  Little  John  upon  the  horse,  with  his  face  to  the 
The  Sheriff  and  ta^»  anc*  so>  one  leading  the  horse  whereon  he  sat  and  the  others 
his  men  set  forth  riding  around  him,  they,  went  forward  to  that  tree  from  the 
^hn  without  branches  of  which  they  had  thought  to  hang  the  poachers.  On 
delay-  they  went,  rattling  and  jingling  along  the  road  till  they  came  to 

the  tree.  Here  one  of  the  men  spake  to  the  Sheriff  of  a  sudden.  "  Your  wor 
ship,"  cried  he,  "  is  not  yon  fellow  coming  along  toward  us  that 
same  Guy  of  Gisbourne  whom  thou  didst  send  into  the  forest  to 

the  outlaw,  Robin  Hood  ?  " 

At  these  words  the  Sheriff  shaded  his  eyes  and  looked  eagerly. 
"Why,  certes,"  quoth  he,  "yon  fellow  is  the  same.    Now,  Heaven 
send  that  he  hath  slain  the  master  thief,  as  we  will  presently  slay  the  man  ! " 

When  Little  John  heard  this  speech  he  looked  up,  and  straightway  his  heart 
crumbled  away  within  him,  for  not  only  were  the  man's  garments  all  covered 
with  blood,  but  he  wore  Robin  Hood's  bugle  horn  and  carried  his  bow  and 
broadsword  in  his  hand. 

"  How  now  !  "  cried  the  Sheriff,  when  Robin  Hood,  in  Guy  of  Gisbourne's 
clothes,  had  come  nigh  to  them.  "  What  luck  hath  befallen  thee  in  the  forest  ? 
Why,  man,  thy  clothes  are  all  over  blood  ! " 

"  An  thou  likest  not  my  clothes,"  said  Robin,  in  a  harsh  voice  like  that  of 


ROBIN  HOOD  AND    GUY  OF  GISBOURNE.  267 

Guy  of  Gisbourne,  "  thou  raayst  shut  thine  eyes.  Marry,  the  blood  upon  me 
is  that  of  the  vilest  outlaw  that  ever  trod  the  woodlands,  and  one  whom  I  have 
slain  this  day,  albeit  not  without  wound  to  myself." 

Then  out  spake  Little  John,  for  the  first  time  since  he  had  fallen  into  the 
Sheriff's  hands.  "  O  thou  vile,  bloody  wretch !  I  know  thee,  Guy  of  Gis 
bourne,  for  who  is  there  that  hath  not  heard  of  thee  and  cursed  thee  for  thy 
vile  deeds  of  blood  and  rapine  ?  Is  it  by  such  a  hand  as  thine  that  the  gentlest 
heart  that  ever  beat  is  stilled  in  death  ?  Truly,  thou  art  a  fit  tool  for  this  cow 
ard  Sheriff  of  Nottingham.  Now  I  die  joyfully,  nor  do  I  care  how  I  die,  for 
life  is  nought  to  me  ! "  So  spake  Little  John,  the  salt  tears  rolling  down  his 
brown  cheeks. 

But  the  Sheriff  of  Nottingham  clapped  his  hands  for  joy.  "Now,  Guy  of 
Gisbourne,"  cried  he,  "  if  what  thou  tellest  me  is  true,  it  will  be  the  best  day's 
doings  for  thee  that  ever  thou  hast  done  in  all  thy  life." 

"  What  I  have  told  thee  is  sooth,  and  I  lie  not,"  said  Robin,  still  in  Guy  of 
Gisbourne's  voice.  "Look,  is  not  this  Robin  Hood's  sword,  and  is  not  this  his 
good  bow  of  yew,  and  is  not  this  his  bugle  horn  ?  Thinkest  thou  he  would 
have  given  them  to  Guy  of  Gisbourne  of  his  own  free  will  ?" 

Then  the  Sheriff  laughed  aloud  for  joy.  "This  is  a  good  day!"  cried  he. 
"  The  great  outlaw  dead  and  his  right-hand  man  in  my  hands !  Ask  what  thou 
wilt  of  me,  Guy  of  Gisbourne,  and  it  is  thine  !  " 

"Then  this  I  ask  of  thee,"  said  Robin.  "As  I  have  slain  the  master  I 
would  now  kill  the  man.  Give  this  fellow's  life  into  my  hands,  Sir  Sheriff." 

"  Now  thou  art  a  fool !  "  cried  the  Sheriff.  "  Thou  mightst  have  had  money 
enough  for  a  knight's  ransom  if  thou  hadst  asked  for  it.  I  like  The  Sheriff  giv- 
ill  to  let  this  fellow  pass  from  my  hands,  but  as  I  have  promised,  J^^JJ^  ^°hn 
thou  shalt  have  him."  Hoofs  hands. 

"  I  thank  thee  right  heartily  for  thy  gift,"  cried  Robin.  "  Take  the  rogue 
down  from  the  horse,  men,  and  lean  him  against  yonder  tree,  whilst  I  show  you 
how  we  stick  a  porker  whence  I  come !  " 

At  these  words  some  of  the  Sheriff's  men  shook  their  heads ;  for,  though 
they  cared  not  a  whit  whether  Little  John  were  hanged  or  not,  they  hated  to 
see  him  butchered  in  cold  blood.  But  the  Sheriff  called  to  them  in  a  loud 
voice,  ordering  them  to  take  the  yeoman  down  from  the  horse  and  lean  him 
against  the  tree,  as  the  other  bade. 

Whilst  they  were  doing  this  Robin  Hood  strung  both  his  bow  and  that  of 
Guy  of  Gisbourne,  albeit  none  of  them  took  notice  of  his  doing  so.  Then, 
when  Little  John  stood  against  the  tree,  he  drew  Guy  of  Gisbourne's  sharp, 
double-edged  dagger.  "  Fall  back  !  fall  back  !  "  cried  he.  "  Would  ye  crowd 
so  on  my  pleasure,  ye  unmannerly  knaves  ?  Back,  I  say  !  Farther  yet !  "  So 


268  ROBIN  HOOD  AND    GUY  OF  GISBOURNE. 

they  crowded  back,  as  he  ordered,  many  of  them  turning  their  faces  away,  that 
they  might  not  see  what  was  about  to  happen. 

"  Come  !  "  cried  Little  John.  "  Here  is  my  breast.  It  is  meet  that  the  same 
hand  that  slew  my  dear  master  should  butcher  me  also  !  I  know  thee,  Guy  of 
Gisbourne  !  " 

"  Peace,  Little  John  ! "  said  Robin,  in  a  low  voice.  "  Twice  thou  hast  said 
thou  knowest  me,  and  yet  thou  knowest  me  not  at  all.  Couldst  thou  not  tell 
me  beneath  this  wild  beast's  hide  ?  Yonder,  just  in  front  of  thee,  lie  my  bow 
and  arrows,  likewise  my  broadsword.  Take  them  when  I  cut  thy  bonds.  Now  ! 
Robin  Hood  sets  Get  them  quickly!"  So  saying,  he  cut  the  bonds,  and  Little 
Little  John  free.  John,  quick  as  a  wink,  leaped  forward  and  caught  up  the  bow  and 
arrows  and  the  broadsword.  At  the  same  time  Robin  Hood  threw  back  the 
cowl  of  horse's  hide  from  his  face  and  bent  Guy  of  Gisbourne's  bow,  with  a 
keen,  barbed  arrow  fitted  to  the  string.  "  Stand  back  ! "  cried  he,  sternly. 
"  The  first  man  that  toucheth  finger  to  bowstring  dieth  !  I  have  slain  thy  man, 
Sheriff  ;  take  heed  that  it  is  not  thy  turn  next."  Then,  seeing  that  Little 
John  had  armed  himself,  he  clapped  his  bugle  horn  to  his  lips  and  blew  three 
blasts  both  loud  and  shrill. 

Now  when  the  Sheriff  of  Nottingham  saw  whose  face  it  was  beneath  Guy 
of  Gisbourne's  hood,  and  when  he  heard  those  bugle  notes  ring  in  his  ear,  he 
felt  as  if  his  hour  had  come.  "  Robin  Hood  ! "  roared  he,  and  without  another 
word  he  wheeled  his  horse  in  the  road  and  went  off  in  a  cloud  of  dust.  The 
Sheriff's  men,  seeing  their  master  thus  fleeing  for  his  life,  thought  that  it  was 
not  their  business  to  tarry  longer,  so,  clapping  spurs  to  their  horses,  they  also 
dashed  away  after  him.  But  though  the  Sheriff  of  Nottingham  went  fast,  he 
The  Sheriff  es-  cou^  not  outstrip  a  clothyard  arrow.  Little  John  twanged  his 
capeth  not  all  bowstring  with  a  shout,  and  when  the  Sheriff  dashed  in  through 
the  gates  of  Nottingham  Town  at  full  speed,  a  gray  goose  shaft 
stuck  out  behind  him  like  a  moulting  sparrow  with  one  feather  in  its  tail.  For 
a  month  afterwards  the  poor  Sheriff  could  sit  upon  nought  but  the  softest 
cushions  that  could  be  gotten  for  him. 

Thus  the  Sheriff  and  a  score  of  men  ran  away  from  Robin  Hood  and  Little 
John  ;  so  that  when  Will  Stutely  and  a  dozen  or  more  of  stout  yeomen  burst 
from  out  the  covert,  they  saw  nought  of  their  master's  enemies,  for  the  Sheriff 
and  his  men  were  scouring  away  in  the  distance,  hidden  within  a  cloud  of  dust 
like  a  little  thunder-storm. 

The  widow's  Then  they  all  went  back  into  the  forest  once  more,  where  they 

tJR0lein°HoJod's       found  the  widow's  three  sons,  who  ran  to  Little  John  and  kissed 
&<*»<*•  his  hands.     But  it  would  not  do  for  them  to  roam  the  forest  at 

large  any  more  ;  so  they  promised    that,   after  they  had  gone  and  told  their 


ROBIN  HOOD  AND   GUY  OF  GISBOURNE.  269 

mother  of  their  escape,  they  would  come  that  night  to  the   greenwood  tree, 
and  thenceforth  become  men  of  the  band. 

Thus  end  the  bravest  adventures  that  ever  befell  Robin  Hood  and  Little 
John.  So  next  we  shall  hear  how  stout  King  Richard  of  the  Lion's  Heart  vis 
ited  Robin  in  Sherwood  Forest. 


II. 


King  Richard 
of  the  Lion's 
Heart  maketh   a 
royal  progress 
through  merry 
England. 


Town 
make  ready  for 
the  Kings  com 
ing. 


King  Richard  cometh  to  Sherwood  Forest. 

N'OT  more  than  two  months  had    passed  and   gone   since   these   stirring 
adventures  that  have  just  been  told  of  befell  Robin  Hood  and  Little 
John,  when  all  Nottinghamshire  was  in  a  mighty  stir  and  tumult,  for  King 
Richard  of  the  Lion's  Heart  was  making  a  royal  progress  through  merry  Eng 
land,  and  every  one  expected  him  to  come  to  Nottingham  Town 
in  his  journeying.     Messengers  went  riding  back  and  forth  be 
tween  the  Sheriff  and  the  King,  until  at  last  the  time  was  fixed 
upon  when  his  majesty  was  to  stop  in  Nottingham,  as  the  guest 
of  his  worship. 

And  now  came  more  bustle  than  ever ;  a  great  running  hither  and  thither, 
The  folk  of  Not-  a  raPPJng  °^  hammers  and  a  babble  of  voices  sounded  everywhere 
through  the  place,  for  the  folk  were  building  great  arches  across 
the  streets,  beneath  which  the  King  was  to  pass,  and  were  drap 
ing  these  arches  with  silken  banners  and  streamers  of  many  col 
ors.  Great  hubbub  was  going  on  in  the  Guild  Hall  of  the  town,  also,  for  here 
a  grand  banquet  was  to  be  given  to  the  King  and  the  nobles  of  his  train,  and 
the  best  master  carpenters  were  busy  building  a  throne  where  the  King  and 
the  Sheriff  were  to  sit  at  the  head  of  the  table,  side  by  side. 

It  seemed  to  many  of  the  good  folk  of  the  place  as  if  the  day  that  should 
bring  the  King  into  the  town  would  never  come  ;  but  all  the  same  it  did  come 
in  its  own  season,  and  bright  shone  the  sun  down  into  the  stony  streets,  which 
were  all  alive  with  a  restless  sea  of  people.  On  either  side  of  the  way  great 
crowds  of  town  and  country  folk  stood  packed  as  close  together  as  dried  her 
ring  in  a  box,  so  that  the  Sheriff's  men,  halberds  in  hands,  could  hardly  press 
them  back  to  leave  space  for  the  King's  riding. 

"Take  care  whom  thou  pushest  against ! "  cried  a  great,  burly  friar  to  one  of 
A  certain  fat  these  men.  "  Wouldst  thou  dig  thine  elbows  into  me,  sirrah  ? 
friar  berates  one  By  'r  Lady  of  the  Fountain,  an  thou  dost  not  treat  me  with  more 
men  for  pushing  deference  I  will  crack  thy  knave's  pate  for  thee,  even  though  thou 

be  one  of  the  mighty  Sheriff's  men." 

At  this  a  great  shout  of  laughter  arose  from  a  number  of  tall  yeomen  in  Lin 
coln  green  that  were  scattered  through  the  crowd  thereabouts  ;  but  one  that 


KING  RICHARD   COMETH  TO  SHERWOOD  FOREST.          271 

seemed  of  more  authority  than  the  others  nudged  the  holy  man  with  his  elbow. 
"  Peace,  Tuck,"  said  he  ;  "  didst  thou  not  promise  me,  ere  thou  earnest  here, 
that  thou  wouldst  put  a  check  upon  thy  tongue  ? " 

"Ay,  marry,"  grumbled  the  other,  "  but  a  did  not  think  to  have  a  hard-footed 
knave  trample  all  over  my  poor  toes  as  though  they  were  no  more  than  so 
many  acorns  in  the  forest." 

But  of  a  sudden  all  this  bickering  ceased,  for  a  clear  sound  of  many  bugle 
horns  came  winding  down  the  street.  Then  all  the  people  craned  their  necks 
and  gazed  in  the  direction  whence  the  sound  came,  and  the  crowding  and  the 
pushing  and  the  swaying  grew  greater  than  ever.  And  now  a  gallant  array  of 
men  came  gleaming  into  sight,  and  the  cheering  of  the  people  ran  down  the 
crowd  as  the  fire  runs  in  dry  grass. 

Eight  and  twenty  heralds  in  velvet  and  cloth  of  gold  came  riding  forwards. 
Over  their  heads  fluttered  a  cloud  of  snow-white  feathers,  and    The  -ht  and 
each  herald  bore  in  his  hand  a  long  silver  trumpet,  which  he  blew    twenty  heralds 

.  .  come  a  riding. 

musically,     rrom  each  trumpet  hung  a  heavy  banner  ot  velvet 
and  cloth  of  gold,  with  the  royal  arms  of  England  emblazoned  thereon.     After 
these  came  riding  fivescore  noble  knights,  two  by  two,  all  fully    Fivescore 
armed,  saving  that  their  heads  were  uncovered.     In  their  hands    tAe$r*LmjU- 
they  bore  tall  lances,  from  the  tops  of  which  fluttered  pennons  of   low  the  Braids. 
many  colors  and  devices.     By  the  side  of  each    knight  walked  a  page  clad  in 
rich  clothes  of  silk  and  velvet,  and  each  page  bore  in  his  hands  his  master's 
helmet,  from  which  waved  long,  floating  plumes  of  feathers.     Never  had  Not 
tingham  seen  a  fairer  sight  than  those  fivescore  noble  knights,  from  whose 
armor  the  sun  blazed  in  dazzling  light  as  they  came  riding  on  their  great  war- 
horses,  with  clashing  of  arms  and  jingling  of  chains.     Behind  the  knights  came 
the  barons  and  the  nobles  of  the  midcountry,  in  robes  of  silk  and    The  barons  and 
cloth  of  gold,  with  golden  chains  about  their  necks  and  jewels  at    the  nobles  of  the 

0  f  midcountry  come 

their  girdles.     Behind  these  again  came  a  great  array  of  men-at-   riding  behind  the 
arms,  with  spears  and  halberds  in  their  hands,  and,  in  the  midst 
of  these,  two  riders  side  by  side.     One  of  the  horsemen  was  the  Sheriff  of  Not 
tingham  in  his  robes  of  office.     The  other,  who  was  a  head  taller    The  Sjierijp  and 
than  the  Sheriff,  was  clad  in  a  rich  but  simple  garb,  with  a  broad,    the  King  come 

riding  in  the 

heavy   chain   about   his  neck.     His   hair   and   beard   were  like    midst  of  many 
threads  of  gold,  and  his  eyes  were  as  blue  as  the  summer  sky.    men-at-arms- 
As  he  rode  along  he  bowed  to  the  right  hand  and  the  left,  and  a  mighty  roar  of 
voices  followed  him  as  he  passed ;  for  this  was  King  Richard. 

Then,  above  all  the  tumult  and  the  shouting  a  great  voice  was  heard  roaring, 
"  Heaven,  its  saints  bless  thee,  our  gracious  King  Richard  !  and  likewise  Our 
Lady  of  the  Fountain,  bless  thee  ! "  Then  King  Richard,  looking  toward  the 


272          KING  RICHARD   COMETH  TO  SHERWOOD  FOREST. 

spot  whence  the  sound  came,  saw  a  tall,  burly,  strapping  priest  standing  in 
front  of  all  the  crowd  with  his  legs  wide  apart  as  he  backed  against  those  be 
hind. 

"  By  my  soul,  Sheriff,"  said  the  King,  laughing,  "ye  have  the  tallest  priests 
in  Nottinghamshire  that  e'er  I  saw  in  all  my  life.  If  Heaven  never  answered 
prayers  because  of  deafness,  methinks  I  would  nevertheless  have  blessings 
bestowed  upon  me,  for  that  man  yonder  would  make  the  great  stone  image  of 
Saint  Peter  rub  its  ears  and  hearken  unto  him.  I  would  that  I  had  an  army  of 
such  as  he." 

To  this  the  Sheriff  answered  never  a  word,  but  all  the  blood  left  his  cheeks, 
The  sheriff seeth  and  he  caught  at  the  pommel  of  his  saddle  to  keep  himself  from 
fi^bandam^  falling  ;  for  he  also  saw  the  fellow  that  so  shouted,  and  knew  him 
the  crowd.  to  be  Friar  Tuck  ;  and,  moreover,  behind  Friar  Tuck  he  saw  the 

faces  of  Robin  Hood  and  Little  John  and  Will  Scarlet  and  Will  Stutely  and 
Allan  a  Dale  and  others  of  the  band. 

"  How  now,"  said  the  King  hastily,  "  art  thou  ill,  Sheriff,  that  thou  growest 
so  white  ?" 

"Nay,  your  majesty,"  said  the  Sheriff,  "  it  was  nought  but  a  sudden  pain  that 
will  soon  pass  by."  Thus  he  spake,  for  he  was  ashamed  that  the  King  should 
know  that  Robin  Hood  feared  him  so  little  that  he  thus  dared  to  come  within 
the  very  gates  of  Nottingham  Town. 

Thus  rode  the  King  into  Nottingham  Town  on  that  bright  afternoon  in  the 
early  fall  season  ;  and  none  rejoiced  more  than  Robin  Hood  and  his  merry  men 
to  see  him  come  so  royally  unto  his  own. 

Eventide  had  come  ;  the  great  feast  in  the  Guild  Hall  at  Nottingham  Town 
was  done,  and  the  wine  passed  freely.  A  thousand  waxen  lights  gleamed  along 
the  board,  at  which  sat  lord  and  noble  and  knight  and  squire  in  goodly  array. 
At  the  head  of  the  table,  upon  a  throne  all  hung  with  cloth  of  old,  sat  King 
Richard  with  the  Sheriff  of  Nottingham  beside  him. 

Quoth  the  King  to  the  Sheriff,  laughing  as  he  spoke,  "  I  have  heard  much 
The Kinrasketh  sP°ken  concerning  the  doings  of  certain  fellows  hereabouts,  one 
the  Sheriff  about  Robin  Hood  and  his  band,  who  are  outlaws  and  abide  in  Sher 
wood  Forest.  Canst  thou  not  tell  me  somewhat  of  them,  Sir 
Sheriff  ?  for  I  hear  that  thou  hast  had  dealings  with  them  more  than  once." 

At  these  words  the  Sheriff  of  Nottingham  looked  down  gloomily,  and  the 
Bishop  of  Hereford,  who  was  present,  gnawed  his  nether  lip.  Quoth  the  Sheriff, 
"  I  can  tell  your  majesty  but  little  concerning  the  doings  of  those  naughty  fel 
lows,  saving  that  they  are  the  boldest  law-breakers  in  all  the  land." 

Then  up  spake  young  Sir  Henry  of  the  Lea,  a  great  favorite  with  the  King, 


KING  RICHARD   COMETH  TO  SHERWOOD  FOREST.         273 

under  whom  he  had  fought  in  Palestine.  "  May  it  please  your  majesty,"  said 
he,  "  when  I  was  away  in  Palestine  I  heard  of ttimes  from  my  father,  and  in 
most  cases  I  heard  of  this  very  fellow,  Robin  Hood.  If  your  majesty  would 
like  I  will  tell  you  a  certain  adventure  of  this  outlaw." 

Then  the  King  laughingly  bade  him  tell  his  tale,  whereupon  he  told  how 
Robin  Hood  had  aided  Sir  Richard  of  the  Lea  with  money  that   sir  Henry  of  the 
he  had  borrowed  from  the  Bishop  of  Hereford.     Again  and  again    Lea  telieth  his 
the  King  and  those  present  roared  with  laughter,  whilst  the  poor 
Bishop  waxed  cherry  red  in  the  face  with  vexation,  for  the  matter  was  a  sore 
thing  with  him.    When  Sir  Henry  of  the  Lea  was  done,  others  of  those  present, 
seeing  how  the  King  enjoyed  this  merry  tale,  told  other  tales  concerning  Robin 
and  his  merry  men. 

"By  the  hilt  of  my  sword,"  said  stout  King  Richard,  "this  is  as  bold  and 
merry  a  knave  as  ever  I  heard  tell  of.  Marry,  I  must  take  this  matter  in  hand 
and  do  what  thou  couldst  not  do,  Sheriff,  to  wit,  clear  the  forest  of  him  and 
his  band." 

That  night  the  King  sat  in  the  place  that  was  set  apart  for  his  lodging  whilst 
in  Nottingham  Town.  With  him  were  young  Sir  Henry  of  the  Lea  and  two 
other  knights  and  three  barons  of  Nottinghamshire  ;  but  the  King's  mind  still 
dwelt  upon  Robin  Hood.  "  Now,"  quoth  he,  "  I  would  freely  give  a  hundred 
pounds  to  meet  this  roguish  fellow,  Robin  Hood,  and  to  see  somewhat  of  his 
doings  in  Sherwood  Forest." 

Then  up  spake  Sir  Hubert  of  Bingham,  laughing :  "  If  your  majesty  hath 
such  a  desire  upon  you  it  is  not  so  hard  to  satisfy.  If  your  majesty  is  willing 
to  lose  one  hundred  pounds,  I  will  engage  to  cause  you  not  only  to  meet  this 
fellow,  but  to  feast  with  him  in  Sherwood." 

"  Marry,  Sir  Hubert,"  quoth  the  King,  "  this  pleaseth  me  well.  But  how  wilt 
thou  cause  me  to  meet  Robin  Hood  ? " 

"Why,  thus,"  said  Sir  Hubert ;  "let  your  majesty  and  us  here  present  put 
on  the  robes  of  seven  of  the  Order  of  Black  Friars,  and  let  your   Sir  Hubert  Oj- 
majesty  hang  a  purse  of  one  hundred  pounds  beneath  your  gown  ;    Bingham  telieth. 

i  .r.  t"e  K*n§  ho™  "e 

then  let  us  undertake  to  ride  from  here  to  Mansfield  Town  to-    may  meet  Robin 
morrow,  and,  without  I  am  much  mistaken,  we  will  both  meet   Hood' 
with  Robin  Hood  and  dine  with  him  before  the  day  be  passed." 

"  I  like  thy  plan,  Sir  Hubert,"  quoth  the  King  merrily,  "  and  to-morrow  we 
will  try  it  and  see  whether  there  be  virtue  in  it." 

So  it  happened  that  when  early  the  next  morning  the  Sheriff  came  to  where 

his  liege  lord  was  abiding,  to  pay  his  duty  to  him,  the  King  told  him  what  they 

had  talked  of  the  night  before,  and  what  merry  adventure  they  were  set  upon 

undertaking  that  morning.     But  when  the  Sheriff  heard  this  he  smote  his  fore- 

18 


274         KING  RICHARD   COMETH  TO  SHERWOOD  FOREST. 

head  with  his  fist.  "  Alas  !  "  said  he,  "  what  evil  counsel  is  this  that  hath  been 
given  thee  !  O  my  gracious  lord  and  king,  you  know  not  what  you  do  !  This 
villain  that  you  thus  go  to  seek  hath  no  reverence  either  for  king  or  king's 

laws." 

"  But  did  I  not  hear  aright  when  I  was  told  that  this  Robin  Hood  hath  shed 
no  blood  since  he  was  outlawed,  saving  only  that  of  that  vile  Guy  of  Gisbourne, 
for  whose  death  all  honest  men  should  thank  him  ? " 

"Yea,  your  majesty,"  said  the  Sheriff,  "you  have  heard  aright.  Neverthe 
less  "  — 

"  Then,"  quoth  the  King,  breaking  in  on  the  Sheriff's  speech,  "  what  have  I 
to  fear  in  meeting  him,  having  done  him  no  harm  ?  Truly,  there  is  no  danger 
in  this.  But  mayhap  thou  wilt  go  with  us,  Sir  Sheriff." 

"  Nay,"  quoth  the  Sheriff  hastily,  "  Heaven  forbid  !  " 

But  now  seven  habits  such  as  black  friars  wear  were  brought,  and  the  King 

and  those  about  him  having  clad  themselves  therein,  and  his 

Z/JKhn     majesty  having  hung  a  purse  with  a  hundred  golden  pounds  in  it 

set  forth  for        beneath  his  robes,  they  all  went  forth  and  mounted  the  mules  that 

Sherwood  for-  T^.         ,       ,        , 

est  to  meet  Robin    had  been  brought  to  the  door  for  them.     Then  the  King  bade  the 
Hood'  Sheriff  be  silent  as  to  their  doings,  and  so  they  set  forth  upon 

their  way. 

Onward  they  travelled,  laughing  and  jesting,  until  they  passed  through  the 
open  country  ;  between  bare  harvest  fields  whence  the  harvest  had  been  gath 
ered  home ;  through  scattered  glades  that  began  to  thicken  as  they  went  farther 
along,  till  they  came  within  the  heavy  shade  of  the  forest  itself.  They  travelled 
in  the  forest  for  several  miles  without  meeting  any  one  such  as  they  sought, 
until  they  had  come  to  that  part  of  the  road  that  lay  nearest  to  Newstead 
Abbey. 

"  By  the  holy  Saint  Martin,"  quoth  the  King,  "  I  would  that  I  had  a  better 
head  for  remembering  things  of  great  need.  Here  have  we  come  away  and 
brought  never  so  much  as  a  drop  of  anything  to  drink  with  us.  Now  I  would 
give  half  a  hundred  pounds  for  somewhat  to  quench  my  thirst  withal." 
3  No  sooner  had  the  King  so  spoken,  than  out  from  the  covert  at  the  roadside 
stepped  a  tall  fellow  with  yellow  beard  and  hair  and  a  pair  of 
stops  tiling  merry  blue  eyes.  "  Truly,  holy  brother,"  said  he,  laying  his  hand 
^N^Tead  upon  the  King's  bridle  rein,  "  it  were  an  unchristian  thing  to  not 
Abbey.  give  fitting  answer  to  so  fair  a  bargain.  We  keep  an  inn  here 

abouts,  and  for  fifty  pounds  we  will  not  only  give  thee  a  good  draught  of  wine, 
but  will  give  thee  as  noble  a  feast  as  ever  thou  didst  tickle  thy  gullet  withal.' 
So  saying  he  put  his  fingers  to  his  lips  and  blew  a  shrill  whistle.  Then 
straightway  the  bushes  and  branches  on  either  side  of  the  road  swayed  and 


KING  RICHARD   COMETH  TO  SHERWOOD  FOREST.          275 

crackled,  and  threescore  broad-shouldered  yeomen  in  Lincoln  green  burst  out 
of  the  covert. 

"  How  now,  fellow,"  quoth  the  King,  "  who  art  thou,  thou  naughty  rogue  ? 
Hast  thou  no  regard  for  such  holy  men  as  we  are  ? " 

"  Not  a  whit,"  quoth  merry  Robin  Hood,  for  the  fellow  was  he  ;  "for  in  sooth 
all  the  holiness  belonging  to  rich  friars,  such  as  ye  are,  one  could  drop  into  a 
thimble  and  the  good  wife  would  never  feel  it  with  the  tip  of  her  finger.  As 
for  my  name,  it  is  Robin  Hood,  and  thou  mayst  have  heard  it  before." 

"  Now  out  upon  thee  ! "  quoth  King  Richard.  "  Thou  art  a  bold  and  naughty 
fellow  and  a  lawless  one  withal,  as  I  have  often  heard  tell.  Now,  prythee,  let 
me,  and  these  brethren  of  mine,  travel  forward  in  peace  and  quietness." 

"  It  may  not  be,"  said  Robin,  "  for  it  would  look  but  ill  of  us  to  let  such  holy 
men  travel  onward  with  empty  stomachs.  But  I  doubt  not  that  thou  hast  a  fat 
purse  to  pay  thy  score  at  our  inn  since  thou  offerest  freely  so  much  for  a  poor 
draught  of  wine.  Show  me  thy  purse,  reverend  brother,  or  I  may  perchance 
have  to  strip  thy  robes  from  thee  to  search  for  it  myself." 

"  Nay,  use  no  force,"  said  the  King  sternly.  "  Here  is  my  purse,  but  lay  not 
thy  lawless  hands  upon  our  person." 

"  Hut,  tut,"  quoth  merry  Robin,  "  what  proud  words  are  these  ?    up  kujjtnc* 
Art  thou  the  King  of  England,  to  talk  so  to  me  ?     Here,  Will,    Robin  Hood- 
take  this  purse  and  see  what  there  is  within." 

Will  Scarlet  took  the  purse  and  counted  out  the  money.  Then  Robin  bade 
him  keep  fifty  pounds  for  themselves,  and  put  fifty  back  into  the  purse.  This 
he  handed  to  the  King.  "  Here,  brother,"  quoth  he,  "  take  this  half  of  thy 
money,  and  thank  Saint  Martin,  on  whom  thou  didst  call  before,  that  thou  hast 
fallen  into  the  hands  of  such  gentle  rogues  that  they  will  not  strip  thee  bare, 
as  they  might  do.  But  wilt  thou  not  put  back  thy  cowl  ?  for  I  would  fain  see 
thy  face." 

"  Nay,"  said  the  King,  drawing  back,  "  I  may  not  put  back  my  cowl,  for  we 
seven  have  vowed  that  we  will  not  show  our  faces  for  four  and  twenty  hours." 

"  Then  keep  them  covered  in  peace,"  said  Robin,  "  and  far  be  it  from  me  to 
make  you  break  your  vows." 

So  he  called  seven  of  his  yeomen  and  bade  them  each  one  take  a  mule  by 
the  bridle  ;  then,  turning  their  faces  toward  the  depths  of  the    Robin  Hood 
woodlands,  they  journeyed  onward  until  they  came  to  the  open    bringeth  the 

J  J  seven  mockfri- 

glade  and  the  greenwood  tree.  ars  to  thegreen- 

Little  John,  with  threescore  yeomen  at  his  heels,  had  also  gone   woodtree- 
forth  that  morning  to  wait  along  the  roads  and  bring  a  rich  guest  to  Sherwood 
glade,  if  such  might  be  his  luck,  for  many  with  fat  purses  must  travel  the  roads 
at  this  time,  when  such  great  doings  were  going  on  in  Nottinghamshire ;  but 


2;6  KING  RICHARD   COMETH  TO  SHERWOOD  FOREST. 

though  Little  John  and  so  many  others  were  gone,  Friar  Tuck  and  twoscore  or 
more  stout  yeomen  were  seated  or  lying  around  beneath  the  great  tree,  and 
when  Robin  and  the  others  came  they  leaped  to  their  feet  to  meet  him. 

"  By  my  soul,"  quoth  merry  King  Richard,  when  he  had  gotten  down  from 
his  mule  and  stood  looking  about  him,  "  thou  hast  in  very  truth  a  fine  lot  of 
young  men  about  thee,  Robin.  Methinks  King  Richard  himself  would  be  glad 
of  such  a  body  guard." 

"  These  are  not  all  of  my  fellows,"  said  Robin,  proudly,  "  for  threescore  more 
of  them  are  away  on  business  with  my  good  right-hand  man,  Little  John.  But, 
as  for  King  Richard,  I  tell  thee,  brother,  there  is  not  a  man  of  us  all  but  would 
pour  out  our  blood  like  water  fop  him.  Ye  churchmen  cannot  rightly  under 
stand  our  King ;  but  we  yeomen  love  him  right  loyally  for  the  sake  of  his  brave 
doings  which  are  so  like  our  own." 

But  now  Friar  Tuck  came  bustling  up.  "  Gi'  ye  good  den,  brothers,"  said  he. 
"  I  am  right  glad  to  welcome  some  of  my  cloth  in  this  naughty  place.  Truly, 
methinks  these  rogues  of  outlaws  would  stand  but  an  ill  chance  were  it  not  for 
the  prayers  of  Holy  Tuck,  who  laboreth  so  hard  for  their  well  being."  Here 
he  winked  one  eye  slyly  and  stuck  his  tongue  into  his  cheek. 

"  Who  art  thou,  mad  priest  ? "  said  the  King  in  a  serious  voice,  albeit  he 
smiled  beneath  his  cowl. 

At  this  Friar  Tuck  looked  all  around  with  a  slow  gaze.  "  Look  you  now," 
quoth  he,  "  never  let  me  hear  you  say  again  that  I  am  no  patient  man.  Here 
is  a  knave  of  a  friar  calleth  me  a  mad  priest,  and  yet  I  smite  him  not.  My 
name  is  Friar  Tuck,  fellow,  —  the  holy  Friar  Tuck." 

"  There,  Tuck,"  said  Robin,  "  thou  hast  said  enow.  Prythee,  cease  thy  talk 
and  bring  some  wine.  These  reverend  men  are  athirst,  and  sin'  they  have  paid 
so  richly  for  their  score  they  must  e'en  have  the  best." 

Friar  Tuck  bridled  at  being  so  checked  in  his  speech,  nevertheless  he  went 
straightway  to  do  Robin's  bidding  ;  so  presently  a  great  crock  was  brought,  and 
wine  was  poured  out  for  all  the  guests  and  for  Robin  Hood.  Then  Robin  held 
his  cup  aloft.  "  Stay  !  "  cried  he.  "  Tarry  in  your  drinking  till  I  give  you  a 
pledge.  Here  is  to  good  King  Richard  of  great  renown,  and  may  all  enemies 
to  him  be  confounded." 

Then  all  drank  the  King's  health,  even  the  King  himself.  "  Methinks,  good 
Robin  Hood  fellow,"  said  he,  "  thou  hast  drunk  to  thine  own  confusion." 
drinketktotht  "Never  a  whit,"  quoth  merry  Robin,  "for  I  tell  thee  that  we 
Kings  health.  Q£  Sherwood  are  more  loyal  to  our  lord  the  King  than  those  of 
thine  order.  We  would  give  up  our  very  lives  for  his  benefiting,  whilst  ye  are 
content  to  lie  snug  in  your  abbeys  and  priories,  let  reign  who  will." 

At  this  the  King  laughed.     Quoth  he,  "  Perhaps  King  Richard's  welfare  is 


KING  RICHARD   COMETH  TO  SHERWOOD  FOREST.          277 

more  to  me  than  thou  wottest  of,  fellow.  But  enough  of  that  matter.  We 
have  paid  well  for  our  fare,  so  canst  thou  not  show  us  some  merry  entertain 
ment  ?  I  have  oft  heard  that  ye  are  wondrous  archers  ;  wilt  thou  not  show  us 
somewhat  of  your  skill  ?  " 

"  With  all  my  heart,"  said  Robin  ;  "  we  are  always  pleased  to  show  our  guests 
all  the  sport  that  is  to  be  seen.  As  Gaffer  Swanthold  sayeth,  '  'T  is  a  hard 
heart  that  will  not  give  a  caged  starling  of  the  best ; '  and  caged  starlings  ye 
are  with  us.  Ho,  lads  !  set  up  a  garland  at  the  end  of  the  glade." 

Then,  as  the  yeomen  ran  to  do  their  master's  bidding,  Tuck  turned  to  one  of 
the  mock  friars.  "  Hearest  thou  our  master  ? "  quoth  he,  with  a  sly  wink. 
"Whenever  he  cometh  across  some  poor  piece  of  wit  he  straightway  layeth 
it  on  the  shoulders  of  this  Gaffer  Swanthold, — whoever  he  may  be,  —  so 
that  the  poor  goodman  goeth  travelling  about  with  all  the  odds  and  ends  and 
tags  and  rags  of  our  master's  brain  packed  on  his  back."  Thus  spake  Friar 
Tuck,  but  in  a  low  voice  so  that  Robin  could  not  hear  him,  for  he  felt  some 
what  nettled  at  Robin's  cutting  his  talk  so  short. 

In  the  mean  time  the  mark  at  which  they  were  to  shoot  was  set  up  at  sixscore 
paces  distance.  It  was  a  garland  of  leaves  and  flowers  two  spans  in  width, 
which  same  was  hung  upon  a  stake  in  front  of  a  broad  tree-trunk.  "  There," 
quoth  Robin,  "yon  is  a  fair  mark,  lads.  Each  of  you  shoot  three  arrows 
thereat ;  and  if  any  fellow  misseth  by  so  much  as  one  arrow,  he  shall  have  a 
buffet  of  Will  Scarlet's  fist." 

"  Hearken  to  him ! "  quoth  Friar  Tuck.  "  Why,  master,  thou  dost  bestow 
buffets  from  thy  strapping  nephew  as  though  they  were  love  taps  from  some 
bouncing  lass.  I  warrant  thou  art  safe  to  hit  the  garland  thyself,  or  thou 
wouldst  not  be  so  free  of  his  cuffing." 

First  David  of  Doncaster  shot,  and  lodged  all  three  of  his  arrows  within  the 
garland.  "  Well  done,  David  !  "  cried  Robin,  "  thou  hast  saved  — 

The  band  shoot 

thine  ears  from  a  warming  this  day."     Next  Midge,  the  Miller,    before  merry 
shot,  and  he,  also,  lodged  his  arrows  in  the  garland.     Then  fol 
lowed  Wat,  the  Tinker,  but  alas  for  him  !  for  one  of  his  shafts  missed  the  mark 
by  the  breadth  of  two  fingers. 

"Come  hither,  fellow,"  said  Will  Scarlet,  in  his  soft,  gentle  voice;  "I  owe 
thee  somewhat  that  I  would  pay  forthwith."  Then  Wat,  the  Tinker,  came 
forward  and  stood  in  front  of  Will  Scarlet,  screwing  up  his  face  and  shutting 
his  eyes  tightly,  as  though  he  already  felt  his  ears  ringing  with  the  buffet. 
Will  Scarlet  rolled  up  his  sleeve,  and,  standing  on  tiptoe  to  give  The  Tinker  gets 
the  greater  swing  to  his  arm,  he  struck  with  might  and  main.  ^buff^- 
"  Whoof !  "  came  his  palm  against  the  Tinker's  head,  and  down  went  stout 
Wat  to  the  grass,  heels  over  head,  as  the  wooden  image  at  the  fair  goes  down 


2/8  KING  RICHARD   COMETH  TO  SHERWOOD  FOREST. 

when  the  skillful  player  throws  a  cudgel  at  it.  Then,  as  the  Tinker  sat  up  upon 
the  grass,  rubbing  his  ear  and  winking  and  blinking  at  the  bright  stars  that 
danced  before  his  eyes,  the  yeomen  roared  with  mirth  till  the  forest  rang.  As 
for  King  Richard,  he  laughed  till  the  tears  ran  down  his  cheeks.  Thus  the 
band  shot,  each  in  turn,  some  getting  off  scot  free,  and  some  winning  a  buffet 
that  always  sent  them  to  the  grass.  And  now,  last  of  all,  Robin  took  his  place, 
and  all  was  hushed  as  he  shot.  The  first  shaft  he  shot  split  a  piece  from  the 
stake  on  which  the  garland  was  hung  ;  the  second  shaft  lodged  within  an  inch 
of  the  other.  "  By  my  halidom,"  said  King  Richard  to  himself,  "  I  would  give 
a  thousand  pounds  for  this  fellow  to  be  one  of  my  guard  ! "  And  now,  for  the 
Robin  Hood  fail-  third  time  Robin  shot ;  but,  alas  for  him  !  the  arrow  was  ill-feath- 
eth  of  his  mark.  QJ-Q^  an^f  wavering  to  one  side,  it  smote  an  inch  outside  the  gar 
land. 

At  this  a  great  roar  went  up,  those  of  the  yeomen  who  sat  upon  the  grass 
rolling  over  and  over  and  shouting  with  laughter,  for  never  before  had  they 
seen  their  master  so  miss  his  mark  ;  but  Robin  flung  his  bow  upon  the  ground 
with  vexation.  "  Now,  out  upon  it !"  cried  he.  "  That  shaft  had  an  ill  feather 
to  it,  for  I  felt  it  as  it  left  my  fingers.  Give  me  a  clean  arrow,  and  I  will  en 
gage  to  split  the  wand  with  it." 

At  these  words  the  yeomen  laughed  louder  than  ever.  "  Nay,  good  uncle," 
said  Will  Scarlet,  in  his  soft,  sweet  voice,  "  thou  hast  had  thy  fair  chance  and 
hast  missed  thine  aim  out  and  out.  I  swear  the  arrow  was  as  good  as  any  that 
hath  been  loosed  this  day.  Come  hither  ;  I  owe  thee  somewhat,  and  would 
fain  pay  it." 

"  Go,  good  master,"  roared  Friar  Tuck,  "  and  may  my  blessing  go  with  thee. 
Thou  hast  bestowed  these  love-taps  of  Will  Scarlet's  with  great  freedom.  It 
were  pity  an  thou  gottest  not  thine  own  share." 

"  It  may  not  be,"  said  merry  Robin.  "  I  am  king  here,  and  no  subject  may 
raise  hand  against  the  king.  But  even  our  great  King  Richard  may  yield  to 
the  holy  Pope  without  shame,  and  even  take  a  tap  from  him  by  way  of  pen 
ance  ;  therefore  I  will  yield  myself  to  this  holy  friar,  who  seem- 

Rolnn  Hood  •>  J  •   i  r 

yieideth  himself  eth  to  be  one  in  authority,  and  will  take  my  punishment  irom 
him."  Thus  saying,  he  turned  to  the  King,  "  I  prythee,  brother, 
wilt  thou  take  my  punishing  into  thy  holy  hands  ?  " 

"  With  all  my  heart,"  quoth  merry  King  Richard,  rising  from  where  he  was 
sitting.  "  I  owe  thee  somewhat  for  having  lifted  a  heavy  weight  of  fifty  pounds 
from  my  purse.  So  make  room  for  him  on  the  green,  lads." 

"  An  thou  makest  me  tumble,"  quoth  Robin,  "  I  will  freely  give  thee  back 
thy  fifty  pounds ;  but  I  tell  thee,  brother,  if  thou  makest  me  not  feel  grass  all 
along  my  back,  I  will  take  away  every  farthing  thou  hast  for  thy  boastful 
speech." 


crrv-Kooin- 

ham-  me- 

\vorft.  •  of- 


Bargain 


KING  RICHARD   COMETH  TO  SHERWOOD  FOREST.          281 

"  So  be  it,"  said  the  King,  "  I  am  willing  to  venture  it."  Thereupon  he  rolled 
up  his  sleeve  and  showed  an  arm  that  made  the  yeomen  stare.  But  Robin, 
with  his  feet  wide  apart,  stood  firmly  planted,  waiting  the  other,  smiling.  Then 
the  King  swung  back  his  arm,  and,  balancing  himself  a  moment,  he  delivered  a 
buffet  at  Robin  that  fell  like  a  thunderbolt.  Down  went  Robin  The  Ki  gjv_ 
headlong  upon  the  grass,  for  the  stroke  would  have  felled  a  stone  'th  Robin  Hood 
wall.  Then  how  the  yeomen  shouted  with  laughter  till  their 
sides  ached,  for  never  had  they  seen  such  a  buffet  given  in  all  their  lives.  As 
for  Robin,  he  presently  sat  up  and  looked  all  around  him,  as  though  he  had 
dropped  from  a  cloud  and  had  lit  in  a  place  he  had  never  seen  before.  After 
a  while,  still  gazing  about  him  at  his  laughing  yeomen,  he  put  his  finger-tips 
softly  to  his  ear  and  felt  all  around  it  tenderly.  "  Will  Scarlet,"  said  he,  "  count 
this  fellow  out  his  fifty  pounds  ;  I  want  nothing  more  either  of  his  money  or  of 
him.  A  murrain  seize  him  and  his  buffeting !  I  would  that  I  had  taken  my 
dues  from  thee,  for  I  verily  believe  he  hath  deafened  mine  ear  from  ever  hear 
ing  again." 

Then,  while  gusts  of  laughter  still  broke  from  the  band,  Will  Scarlet  counted 
out  the  fifty  pounds,  and  the  King  dropped  it  back  into  his  purse  again.  "  I 
give  thee  thanks,  fellow,"  said  he,  "  and  if  ever  thou  shouldst  wish  for  another 
box  of  the  ear  to  match  the  one  thou  hast,  come  to  me  and  I  will  fit  thee  with 
it  for  nought." 

So  spake  the  merry  King ;  but,  even  as  he  ended,  there  came  suddenly  the 
sound  of  many  voices,  and  out  from  the  covert  burst  Little  John  Little  John  com- 
and  threescore  men,  with  Sir  Richard  of  the  Lea  in -the  midst.  ^  to  the  green- 

wood  tree  wttn 

Across  the  glade  they  came  running,  and,  as  they  came,  Sir  Rich-  Sir  Richard  of 
ard  shouted  to  Robin  :  "  Make  haste,  dear  friend,  gather  thy  band  warns  Robin 
together  and  come  with  me!  King  Richard  left  Nottingham  Hood  of  danger. 
Town  this  very  morning,  and  cometh  to  seek  thee  in  the  woodlands.  I  know 
not  how  he  cometh,  for  it  was  but  a  rumor  of  this  that  reached  me  ;  neverthe 
less,  I  know  that  it  is  the  truth.  Therefore  hasten  with  all  thy  men,  and  come 
to  Castle  Lea,  for  there  thou  mayst  lie  hidden  till  thy  present  danger  passeth. 
Who  are  these  strangers  that  thou  hast  with  thee  ? " 

"  Why,"  quoth  merry  Robin,  rising  from  the  grass,  "  these  are  certain  gentle 
guests  that  came  with  us  from  the  high-road  over  by  Newstead  Abbey.  I  know 
not  their  names,  but  I  have  become  right  well  acquaint  with  this  lusty  rogue's 
palm  this  morning.  Marry,  the  pleasure  of  this  acquaintance  hath  cost  me  a 
deaf  ear  and  fifty  pounds  to  boot ! " 

Sir  Richard  looked  keenly  at  the  tall  friar,  who,  drawing  himself  up  to  his 
full  height,  looked  fixedly  back  at  the  knight.  Then  of  a  sudden  Sir  Richard's 
cheeks  grew  pale,  for  he  knew  who  it  was  that  he  looked  upon.  Quickly  he 


282  KING  RICHARD   COMETH  TO  SHERWOOD  FOREST. 

leaped  from  off  his  horse's  back  and  flung  himself  upon  his  knees  before  the 
Sir  Richard  of  otner-  At  this,  the  King,  seeing  that  Sir  Richard  knew  him, 
the  Lea  knoweth  threw  back  his  cowl,  and  all  the  yeomen  saw  his  face  and  knew 
him  also,  for  there  was  not  one  of  them  but  had  been  in  the 
crowd  in  the  good  town  of  Nottingham,  and  had  seen  him  riding  side  by  side 
with  the  Sheriff.  Down  they  fell  upon  their  knees,  nor  could  they  say  a  word. 
Then  the  King  looked  all  around  right  grimly,  and,  last  of  all,  his  glance  came 
back  and  rested  again  upon  Sir  Richard  of  the  Lea. 

"  How  is  this,  Sir  Richard  ?  "  said  he,  sternly.  "  How  darest  thou  step  be 
tween  me  and  these  fellows  ?  and  how  darest  thou  offer  thy  knightly  Castle  of 
the  Lea  for  a  refuge  to  them  ?  Wilt  thou  make  it  a  hiding-place  for  the  most 
renowned  outlaws  in  England  ? " 

Then  Sir  Richard  of  the  Lea  raised  his  eyes  to  the  King's  face.  "  Far  be  it 
from  me,"  said  he,  "to  do  aught  that  could  bring  your  majesty's  anger  upon 
me.  Yet,  sooner  would  I  face  your  majesty's  wrath  than  suffer  aught  of  harm 
that  I  could  stay  to  fall  upon  Robin  Hood  and  his  band  ;  for  to  them  I  owe 
life,  honor,  everything.  Should  I,  then,  desert  him  in  his  hour  of  need  ?  " 

Ere  the  Knight  had  done  speaking,  one  of  the  mock  friars  that  stood  near 
the  King  came  forward  and  knelt  beside  Sir  Richard,  and  throwing  back  his 
cowl  showed  the  face  of  young  Sir  Henry  of  the  Lea.  Then  Sir  Henry  grasped 
his  father's  hand  and  said,  "  Here  kneels  one  who  hath  served  thee  well,  King 
Richard,  and,  as  thou  knowest,  hath  stepped  between  thee  and  death  in  Pales 
tine  ;  yet  do  I  abide  by  my  dear  father,  and  here  I  say  also,  that  I  would  freely 
give  shelter  to  this  noble  outlaw,  Robin  Hood,  even  though  it  brought  thy 
wrath  upon  me,  for  my  father's  honor  and  my  father's  welfare  are  as  dear  to  me 
as  mine  own." 

King  Richard  looked  from  one  to  the  other  of  the  kneeling  knights,  and  at 
last  the  frown  faded  from  his  brow  and  a  smile  twitched  at  the  corners  of  his 
The  Kin  for-  ^PSi  "Marry,  Sir  Richard,"  quoth  the  King,  "thou  art  a  bold- 
gives  Sir  Rich-  spoken  knight,  and  thy  freedom  of  speech  weigheth  not  heavily 
"because  of  hi?  against  thee  with  me.  This  young  son  of  thine  taketh  after  his 
stout  son.  sire  b0th  in  boldness  of  speech  and  of  deed,  for,  as  he  sayeth,  he 

stepped  one  time  betwixt  me  and  death  ;  wherefore  I  would  pardon  thee  for  his 
sake  even  if  thou  hadst  done  more  than  thou  hast.  Rise  all  of  you,  for  ye  shall 
suffer  no  harm  through  me  this  day,  for  it  were  pity  that  a  merry  time  should 
end  in  such  a  manner  as  to  mar  its  joyousness." 

Then  all  arose  and  the  King  beckoned  Robin  Hood  to  come  to  him.  "  How 
now,"  quoth  he,  "  is  thine  ear  still  too  deaf  to  hear  me  speak  ?" 

"  Mine  ears  would  be  deafened  in  death  ere  they  would  cease  to  hear  your 
majesty's  voice,"  said  Robin.  "As  for  the  blow  that  your  majesty  struck  me, 


KING  RICHARD   COMETH  TO  SHERWOOD  FOREST.          283 

I  would  say  that  though  my  sins  are  haply  many,  methinks  they  have  been  paid 
up  in  full  thereby." 

"  Thinkest  thou  so?"  said  the  King  with  somewhat  of  sternness  in  his  voice. 
"  Now  I  tell  thee  that  but  for  three  things,  to  wit,  my  mercifulness,  my  love  for 
a  stout  woodsman,  and  the  loyalty  thou  hast  avowed  for  me,  thine  ears,  mayhap, 
might  have  been  more  tightly  closed  than  ever  a  buffet  from  me  could  have 
shut  them.  Talk  not  lightly  of  thy  sins,  good  Robin.  But  come, 
look  up.  Thy  danger  is  past,  for  hereby  I  give  thee  and  all  thy  dons  Robin  Hood 
band  free  pardon.  But,  in  sooth,  I  cannot  let  you  roam  the  forest  a«d  all  his  band. 
as  ye  have  done  in  the  past ;  therefore  I  will  take  thee  at  thy  word,  when  thou 
didst  say  thou  wouldst  give  thy  service  to  me,  and  thou  shalt  go  back  to  Lon 
don  with  me.  We  will  take  that  bold  knave  Little  John  also,  and  likewise  thy 
cousin,  Will  Scarlet,  and  thy  minstrel,  Allan  a  Dale.  As  for  the  rest  of  thy 
band,  we  will  take  their  names  and  have  them  duly  recorded  as  royal  rangers  ; 
for  methinks  it  were  wiser  to  have  them  changed  to  law-abiding  caretakers  of 
our  deer  in  Sherwood  than  to  leave  them  to  run  at  large  as  outlawed  slayers 
thereof.  But  now  get  a  feast  ready,  for  I  would  fain  see  how  ye  live  here  in 
the  leafy  woodlands." 

So  Robin  bade  his  men  make  ready  a  grand  feast ;  and  straightway  great 
fires  were  kindled  and  burned  brightly,  at  which  fires  savory  things  roasted 
sweetly.  While  this  was  going  forward,  the  King  bade  Robin  Hood  call  Allan 
a  Dale  for  he  would  hear  him  sing.  So  word  was  passed  for  Allan,  and  pres 
ently  he  came,  bringing  his  harp. 

"  Marry,"  said  King  Richard,  "  if  thy  singing  match  thy  looks  it  is  fair 
enough.  Prythee  strike  up  a  ditty  and  let  us  have  a  taste  of  thy  skill." 

Then  Allan  touched  his  harp  lightly,  and  all  words  were  hushed    Allan  a  Dale 

v-1      i_  ,1  sin?eth  before 

while  he  sang  thus  :  —  King  Richard. 

"  'O/i  where  hast  thou  been,  my  daughter  ? 
Oh  where  hast  thou  been  this  day, 

Daughter,  my  daughter  ? ' 
'  Oh,  I  have  been  to  the  river's  side, 
Where  the  waters  lie  all  gray  and  wide, 
And  the  gray  sky  broods  o'er  the  leaden  tide, 
And  the  shrill  wind  sighs  a  straining.' 

" '  What  sawest  thou  there,  my  daughter  ? 
What  sawest  thou  there  this  day, 

Daughter,  my  daughter  ?  ' 
1  Oh,  I  saw  a  boat  come  drifting  nigh, 
Where  the  quivering  rushes  hiss  and  sis'/I, 


KING  RICHARD   COMETH  TO  SHERWOOD  FOREST. 

And  the  water  soughs  as  it  gurgles  fry, 
And  the' shrill  wind  sighs  a  straining? 

" '  What  sailed  in  the  boat,  my  (laughter  ? 
What  sailed  in  the  boat  this  day, 

Daughter,  my  daughter  ?  ' 
1  Oh,  there  was  one  all  clad  in  white, 
And  about  his  face  hung  a  pallid  light, 
And  his  eyes  gleamed  sharp  like  the  stars  at  night, 
And  the  shrill  wind  sighed  a  straining? 

"  '  And  what  said  he,  my  daughter  ? 
What  said  he  to  thee  this  day, 

Daughter,  my  daughter  ? ' 
'  Oh,  said  he  nought,  but  did  he  this  : 
Thrice  on  my  lips  did  he  press  a  kiss, 
And  my  heartstrings  shrunk  with  an  awful  bliss, 
And  the  shrill  wind  sighed  a  straining? 

" '  Why  growest  thou  so  cold,  my  daughter  ? 
Why  growest  thou  so  cold  and  white, 

Daughter,  my  daughter  ? ' 
Oh  never  a  word  the  daughter  said, 
J5ut  she  sat  all  straight  with  a  drooping  head, 
for  her  heart  was  stilled  and  her  face  was  dead: 
And  the  shrill  wind  sighed  a  straining." 

All  listened  in  silence ;  and  when  Allan  a  Dale  had  done  King  Richard  heaved 
a  sigh.  "  By  the  breath  of  my  body,  Allan,"  quoth  he,  "  thou  hast  such  a 
wondrous  sweet  voice  that  it  strangely  moves  my  heart.  But  what  doleful  ditty 
is  this  for  the  lips  of  a  stout  yeoman  ?  I  would  rather  hear  thee  sing  a  song 
of  love  and  battle  than  a  sad  thing  like  that.  Moreover,  I  understand  it  not ; 
what  meanest  thou  by  the  words  ? " 

"  I  know  not,  your  majesty,"  said  Allan,  shaking  his  head,  "  for  ofttimes  I 
sing  that  which  I  do  not  clearly  understand  mine  own  self." 

"  Well,  well,"  quoth  the  King,  "  let  it  pass  ;  only  I  tell  thee  this,  Allan,  thou 
shouldst  turn  thy  songs  to  such  matters  as  I  spoke  of,  to  wit,  love  or  war ;  for 
in  sooth  thou  hast  a  sweeter  voice  than  Blondell,  and  methought  he  was  the 
best  minstrel  that  ever  I  heard." 

But  now  one  came  forward  and  said  that  the  feast  was  ready; 
feasts  in  the  for-  so  Robin  Hood  brought  King  Richard  and  those  with  him  to 
esf'  where  it  lay  all  spread  out  on  fair  white  linen  cloths  which  lay 


KING  RICHARD   COMETH  TO  SHERWOOD  FOREST. 


285 


upon  the  soft  green  grass.  Then  King  Richard  sat  him  down  and  feasted  and 
drank,  and  when  he  was  done  he  swore  roundly  that  he  had  never  sat  at  such 
a  lusty  repast  in  all  his  life  before. 

That  night  he  lay  in  Sherwood  Forest  upon  a  bed  of  sweet  green  leaves, 
and  early  the  next  morning  he  set  forth  from  the  woodlands  for   Ki    Rifhard 
Nottingham  Town,  Robin  Hood  and  all  of  his  band  going  with    Heth  in  the  forest 

.  .        ,  .  over  night. 

him.     You  may  guess  what  a  stir  there  was  m  the  good  town 
when  all  these  famous  outlaws  came  marching  into  the  streets.     As  for  the 
Sheriff,  he  knew  not  what  to  say  nor  where  to  look  when  he  saw  Robin  Hood 
in  such  high  favor  with  the  King,  whilst  all  his  heart  was  filled  with  gall  be 
cause  of  the  vexation  that  lay  upon  him. 

The  next  day  the  King  took  leave  of  Nottingham  Town  ;  so  Robin  Hood 
and  Little  John  and  Will  Scarlet  and  Allan  a  Dale  shook  hands    Robin  Hood  and 
with  all  the  rest  of  the  band,  kissing  the  cheeks  of  each  man,  and 
swearing  that  they  would  often  come  to  Sherwood  and  see  them. 
Then  each  mounted  his  horse  and  rode  away  in  the  train  of  the 
King. 


Little  John  and 
Will  Scarlet  and 
Allan  a  Dale 
take  leave  of  the 


^ j  ~**HUS  end  the  merry  adventures  of  Robin  Hood ;  for,  in  spite  of 
J.       his  promise,  it  was   many  a  year  ere  he  saw  Sherwood  again- 
After  a  year  or  two  at  court  Little  John  came  back  to  Notting 
hamshire,  where  he  lived  in  an  orderly  way,  though  within  sight  of  Sher 
wood,  and  where  he  achieved  great  fame  as  the  champion  of  all  England 
with  the  quarterstajf.      Will  Scarlet  after  a  time  came  back  to  his  own 
home,  whence  he  had  been  driven  by  his  unlucky  killing  of  his  fathers 
steward.      The  rest  of  the  band  did  their  duty  as  royal  rangers  right 
well.     But  Robin  Hood  and  Allan  a  Dale  did  not  come  again  to  Sher 
wood  so  quickly,  for  thus  it  was  :  — 

Robin,  through  his  great  fame  as  an  archer,  became  a  favorite  with 
the  King,  so  that  he  speedily  arose  in  rank  to  be  the  chief  of  all  the  yeo 
men.  At  last  the  King,  seeing  how  faithful  and  how  loyal  he  was,  cre 
ated  him  Earl  of  Huntingdon ;  so  Robin  followed  the  King  to  the  wars, 
and  found  his  time  so  full  that  he  had  no  chance  to  come  back  to  Sher 
wood  for  even  so  much  as  a  day.  As  for  Allan  a  Dale  and  his  wife, 
the  fair  Ellen,  they  followed  Robin  Hood  and  shared  in  all  his  ups  and 
downs  of  life. 

Thus  all  things  have  an  end,  but  not  such  a  lucky  ending  as  befell 
Robin  Hood  and  his  band  of  stout  yeomen  in  famous  Sherwood  Forest. 


ammmmy*):^^^ 


5°- Y*  GBJEAT-REAPER- reapeth' 

FLOWERS  :  - 


EPILOGUE. 

Telling  how  Robin  Ho&l  came  back  again  to  Sherwood  Forest,  and 
how  Sir  William  Dale  was  sent  against  him  to  take  him.  Likewise 
it  is  told  how  Robin  Hood  died  by  the  treachery  of  his  cousin,  the 
Prioress  of  the  Nunnery  of  Kirklees. 

ND  now,  dear  friend,  —  you  who  have  journeyed  with  me 
in  all  these  merry  doings,  —  I  will  not  bid  you  follow  me 
further,  but  will  drop  your  hand  here  with  a  "  good  den," 
if  you  wish  it ;  for  that  which  cometh  hereafter  speaks  of 
the  breaking  up  of  things,  and  shows  how  joys  and  pleas 
ures  that  are  dead  and  gone  can  never  be  set  upon  their 
feet  to  walk  again.  I  will  not  dwell  upon  the  matter 
over  long,  but  will  tell  as  speedily  as  may  be  of  how  that 
stout  fellow,  Robin  Hood,  died  as  he  had  lived,  not  at  court  as  Earl  of  Hunt 
ingdon,  but  with  bow  in  hand,  his  heart  in  the  greenwood,  and  he  himself  a 
right  yeoman. 

King  Richard  died  upon   the   battlefield,   in   such    a  way   as  properly  be 
came  a  lion-hearted  king,  as  you  yourself,  no  doubt,  know  ;  so,  after  a  time, 
the  Earl  of  Huntingdon  —  or  Robin  Hood,  as  we  will  still  call  him  as  of  old 
—  finding  nothing  for  his  doing  abroad,  came  back  to  merry  England  again. 
19 


290  EPILOGUE. 

With  him  came  Allan  a  Dale  and  his  wife,  the  fair  Ellen,  for  these  two  had 
been  chief  of  Robin's  household  ever  since  he  had  left  Sherwood  Forest. 

It  was  in  the  spring-time  when  they  landed  once  more  on  the  shores  of 
England.  The  leaves  were  green  and  the  small  birds  sang  blithely,  just  as 
they  used  to  do  in  fair  Sherwood  when  Robin  Hood  roamed  the  woodland 
shades  with  a  free  heart  and  a  light  heel.  All  the  sweetness  of  the  time  and 
the  joyousness  of  everything  brought  back  to  Robin's  mind  his  forest  life,  so 
that  a  great  longing  came  upon  him  to  behold  the  woodlands  once  more.  So 
he  went  straightway  to  King  John  and  besought  leave  of  him  to  visit  Not 
tingham  for  a  short  season.  The  King  gave  him  leave  to  come  and  to  go,  but 
bade  him  not  stay  longer  than  three  days  at  Sherwood.  So  Robin  Hood  and 
Allan  a  Dale  set  forth  without  delay  to  Nottinghamshire  and  Sherwood  Forest. 

The  first  night  they  took  up  their  inn  at  Nottingham  Town,  yet  they  did  not 
go  to  pay  their  duty  to  the  Sheriff,  for  his  worship  bore  many  a  bitter  grudge 
against  Robin  Hood,  which  grudges  had  not  been  lessened  by  Robin's  rise  in 
the  world.  The  next  day  at  an  early  hour  they  mounted  their  horses  and  set 
forth  for  the  woodlands.  As  they  passed  along  the  road  it  seemed  to  Robin 
that  he  knew  every  stick  and  stone  that  his  eyes  looked  upon.  Yonder  was 
a  path  that  he  had  ofttimes  trod  of  a  mellow  evening,  with  Little  John  beside 
him  ;  here  was  one,  now  nigh  choked  with  brambles,  along  which  he  and  a 
little  band  had  walked  when  they  went  forth  to  seek  a  certain  curtal  friar. 

"  Look,  Allan ! "  cried  Robin.  "  Dost  thou  not  see  the  scar  on  yonder 
beechen  tree  ?  That  was  made  when  thine  arrow  stripped  away  a  piece  of  the 
bark  the  day  thy  shaft  missed  the  noble  hart  so  sadly.  That  was  the  same  day 
that  we  were  caught  by  the  storm,  and  had  to  lodge  over  night  at  the  old  farm 
er's  house  —  he  who  had  the  three  buxom  daughters." 

Thus  they  rode  slowly  onward,  talking  about  these  old,  familiar  things  ;  old 
and  yet  new,  for  they  found  more  in  them  than  they  had  ever  thought  of  be 
fore.  Thus  at  last  they  came  to  the  open  glade,  and  the  broad,  wide-spreading 
greenwood  tree  which  was  their  home  for  so  many  years.  Neither  of  the  two 
spoke  when  they  stood  beneath  that  tree.  Robin  looked  all  about  him  at  the 
well  known  things,  so  like  what  they  used  to  be  and  yet  so  different  ;  for, 
where  once  was  the  bustle  of  many  busy  fellows  was  now  the  quietness  of  soli 
tude  ;  and,  as  he  looked,  the  woodlands,  the  greensward,  and  the  sky  all  blurred 
together  in  his  sight  through  salt  tears,  for  such  a  great  yearning  came  upon 
him  as  he  looked  on  these  things  (as  well  known  to  him  as  the  fingers  of  his 
right  hand)  that  he  could  not  keep  back  the  water  from  his  eyes. 

That  morning  he  had  slung  his  good  old  bugle  horn  over  his  shoulder,  and 
now,  with  the  yearning,  came  a  great  longing  to  sound  this  bugle  once  more. 
He  raised  it  to  his  lips,  he  blew  a  blast.  "  Tirila,  lirila,"  the  sweet,  clear 


EPILOGUE.  291 

notes  went  winding  down  the  forest  paths,  coming  back  again  from  the  more 
distant  bosky  shades  in  faint  echoes  of  sound,  —  "  Tirila,  lirila,  tirila,  lirila," 
until  it  faded  away  and  was  lost. 

Now  it  chanced  that  on  that  very  morn  Little  John  was  walking  through  a 
spur  of  the  forest  upon  certain  matters  of  business,  and  as  he  paced  along, 
sunk  in  meditation,  the  faint,  clear  notes  of  a  distant  bugle  horn  came  to  his 
ear.  As  leaps  the  stag  when  it  feels  the  arrow  at  its  heart,  so  leaped  Little 
John  when  that  distant  sound  met  his  ear.  All  the  blood  in  his  body  seemed 
to  rush  like  a  flame  into  his  cheeks  as  he  bent  his  head  and  listened.  Again 
came  the  bugle  note,  thin  and  clear,  and  yet  again  it  sounded.  Then  Little 
John  gave  a  great,  wild  cry  of  yearning,  of  joy,  and  yet  of  grief,  and,  putting 
down  his  head,  he  dashed  into  the  thicket.  Onward  he  plunged,  crackling 
and  rending,  as  the  wild  boar  rushes  through  the  underbrush.  Little  recked 
he  of  thorns  and  briars  that  scratched  his  flesh  and  tore  his  clothing,  for  all  he 
thought  of  was  to  get,  by  the  shortest  way,  to  the  greenwood  glade  whence  he 
knew  the  sound  of  the  bugle  horn  came.  Out  he  burst  from  the  covert,  at  last, 
a  shower  of  little  broken  twigs  falling  about  him,  and,  without  pausing  a  mo 
ment,  rushed  forward  and  flung  himself  at  Robin's  feet.  Then  he  clasped  his 
arms  around  the  master's  knees,  and  all  his  body  was  shaken  with  great  sobs  ; 
neither  could  Robin  nor  Allan  a  Dale  speak,  but  stood  looking  down  at  Little 
John,  the  tears  rolling  down  their  cheeks. 

Whilst  they  thus  stood,  seven  royal  rangers  rushed  into  the  open  glade  and 
raised  a  great  shout  of  joy  at  the  sight  of  Robin  ;  and  at  their  head  was  Will 
Stutely.  Then,  after  a  while,  came  four  more,  panting  with  their  running,  and 
two  of  these  four  were  Will  Scathelock  and  Midge,  the  Miller  ;  for  all  of  these 
had  heard  the  sound  of  Robin  Hood's  horn.  All  these  ran  to  Robin  and  kissed 
his  hands  and  his  clothing,  with  great  sound  of  weeping. 

After  a  while  Robin  looked  around  him  with  tear-dimmed  eyes,  and  said,  in  a 
husky  voice,  "  Now,  I  swear  that  never  again  will  I  leave  these  dear  woodlands. 
I  have  been  away  from  them  and  from  you  too  long.  Now  do  I  lay  by  the 
name  of  Robert,  Earl  of  Huntingdon,  and  take  upon  me  once  again  that  nobler 
title,  Robin  Hood,  the  Yeoman."  At  this  a  great  shout  went  up,  and  all  the 
yeomen  shook  one  another's  hands  for  joy. 

The  news  that  Robin  Hood  had  come  back  again  to  dwell  in  Sherwood  as  of 
old  spread  like  wildfire  all  over  the  countryside,  so  that  ere  a  se'ennight  had 
passed  nearly  all  of  his  old  yeomen  had  gathered  about  him  again.  But  when 
the  news  of  all  this  reached  the  ears  of  King  John,  he  swore  both  loud  and 
deep,  and  took  a  solemn  vow  that  he  would  not  rest  until  he  had  Robin 
Hood  in  his  power,  dead  or  alive.  Now  there  was  present  at  court  a  certain 
knight,  Sir  William  Dale,  as  gallant  a  soldier  as  ever  donned  harness.  Sir  Wil- 


292  EPILOGUE. 

liam  Dale  was  well  acquainted  with  Sherwood  Forest,  for  he  was  head  keeper 
over  that  part  of  it  that  lay  nigh  to  good  Mansfield  Town  ;  so  to  him  the  King 
turned,  and  bade  him  take  an  army  of  men  and  go  straightway  to  seek  Robin 
Hood.  Likewise  the  King  gave  Sir  William  his  signet  ring  to  show  to  the 
Sheriff,  that  he  might  raise  all  his  armed  men  to  aid  the  others  in  their  chase 
of  Robin.  So  Sir  William  and  the  Sheriff  set  forth  to  do  the  King's  bidding 
and  to  search  for  Robin  Hood  ;  and  for  seven  days  they  hunted  up  and  down, 
yet  found  him  not. 

Now,  had  Robin  Hood  been  as  peaceful  as  of  old,  everything  might  have 
ended  in  smoke,  as  other  such  ventures  had  always  done  before  ;  but  he  had 
fought  for  years  under  King  Richard,  and  was  changed  from  what  he  used  to 
be.  It  galled  his  pride  to  thus  flee  away  before  those  sent  against  him,  like  a 
chased  fox  flees  from  the  hounds  ;  so  thus  it  came  about,  at  last,  that  Robin 
Hood  and  his  yeomen  met  Sir  William  and  the  Sheriff  and  their  men  in  the 
forest,  and  a  bloody  fight  followed.  The  first  man  slain  in  that  fight  was  the 
Sheriff  of  Nottingham,  for  he  fell  from  his  horse  with  an  arrow  in  his  brain 
ere  half  a  score  of  shafts  had  been  sped.  Many  a  better  man  than  the  Sheriff 
kissed  the  sod  that  day,  but  at  last,  Sir  William  Dale  being  wounded  and  most 
of  his  men  slain,  he  withdrew,  beaten,  and  left  the  forest.  But  scores  of  good 
fellows  were  left  behind  him,  stretched  out  all  stiff  beneath  the  sweet  green 
boughs. 

But  though  Robin  Hood  had  beaten  off  his  enemies  in  fair  fight,  all  this  lay 
heavily  upon  his  mind,  so  that  he  brooded  over  it  until  a  fever  seized  upon  him. 
For  three  days  it  held  him,  and  though  he  strove  to  fight  it  off,  he  was  forced 
to  yield  at  last.  Thus  it  came  that,  on  the  morning  of  the  fourth  day,  he  called 
Little  John  to  him,  and  told  him  that  he  could  not  shake  the  fever  from  him, 
and  that  he  would  go  to  his  cousin,  the  Prioress  of  the  nunnery  near  Kirklees, 
in  Yorkshire,  who  was  a  skilful  leech,  and  he  would  have  her  open  a  vein  in 
his  arm  and  take  a  little  blood  from  him,  for  the  bettering  of  his  health.  Then 
he  bade  Little  John  make  ready  to  go  also,  for  he  might  perchance  need  aid  in 
his  journeying.  So  Little  John  and  he  took  their  leave  of  the  others,  and 
Robin  Hood  bade  Will  Stutely  be  the  captain  of  the  band  until  they  should 
come  back.  Thus  they  came  by  easy  stages  and  slow  journeying  until  they 
reached  the  nunnery  of  Kirklees. 

Now  Robin  had  done  much  to  aid  this  cousin  of  his ;  for  it  was  through 
King  Richard's  love  of  him  that  she  had  been  made  prioress  of  the  place.  But 
there  is  nought  in  the  world  so  easily  forgot  as  gratitude  ;  so,  when  the  Pri 
oress  of  Kirklees  had  heard  how  her  cousin,  the  Earl  of  Huntingdon,  had 
thrown  away  his  earldom  and  gone  back  again  to  Sherwood,  she  was  vexed  to 
the  soul,  and  feared  lest  her  cousinship  with  him  should  bring  the  King's 


EPILOGUE.  293 

wrath  upon  her  also.  Thus  it  happened  that  when  Robin  came  to  her  and  told 
her  how  he  wished  her  services  as  leech,  she  began  plotting  ill  against  him 
in  her  mind,  thinking  that  by  doing  evil  to  him  she  might  find  favor  with  his 
enemies.  Nevertheless,  she  kept  this  well  to  herself,  and  received  Robin  with 
seeming  kindness.  She  led  him  up  the  winding  stone  stair  to  a  room  which 
was  just  beneath  the  eaves  of  a  high,  round  tower ;  but  she  would  not  let  Little 
John  come  with  him. 

So  the  poor  yeoman  turned  his  feet  away  from  the  door  of  the  nunnery,  and 
left  his  master  in  the  hands  of  the  women.  But,  though  he  did  not  come  in, 
neither  did  he  go  far  away  ;  for  he  laid  him  down  in  a  little  glade  near  by, 
where  he  could  watch  the  place  that  Robin  abided,  like  some  great,  faithful 
dog  turned  away  from  the  door  where  his  master  has  entered. 

After  the  women  had  gotten  Robin  Hood  to  the  room  beneath  the  eaves, 
the  Prioress  sent  all  of  the  others  away ;  then,  taking  a  little  cord,  she  tied  it 
tightly  about  Robin's  arm,  as  though  she  were  about  to  bleed  him.  And  so 
she  did  bleed  him,  but  the  vein  she  opened  was  not  one  of  those  that  lie  close 
and  blue  beneath  the  skin  ;  deeper  she  cut  than  that,  for  she  opened  one  of 
those  veins  through  which  the  bright  red  blood  runs  leaping  from  the  heart. 
Of  this  Robin  knew  not ;  for,  though  he  saw  the  blood  flow,  it  did  not  come 
fast  enough  to  make  him  think  that  there  was  anything  ill  in  it. 

Having  done  this  vile  deed,  the  Prioress  turned  and  left  her  cousin,  locking 
the  door  behind  her.  All  that  livelong  day  the  blood  ran  from  Robin  Hood's 
arm,  nor  could  he  check  it,  though  he  strove  in  every  way  to  do  so.  Again 
and  again  he  called  for  help,  but  no  help  came,  for  his  cousin  had  betrayed 
him,  and  Little  John  was  too  far  away  to  hear  his  voice.  So  he  bled  and  bled 
until  he  felt  his  strength  slipping  away  from  him.  Then  he  arose,  tottering, 
and  bearing  himself  up  by  the  palms  of  his  hands  against  the  wall,  he  reached 
his  bugle  horn  at  last.  Thrice  he  sounded  it,  but  weakly  and  faintly,  for  his 
breath  was  fluttering  through  sickness  and  loss  of  strength  ;  nevertheless,  Lit 
tle  John  heard  it  where  he  lay  in  the  glade,  and,  with  a  heart  all  sick  with 
dread,  he  came  running  and  leaping  toward  the  nunnery.  Loudly  he  knocked 
at  the  door,  and  in  a  loud  voice  shouted  for  them  to  let  him  in  ;  but  the  door 
was  of  massive  oak,  strongly  barred,  and  studded  with  spikes,  so  they  within 
felt  safe,  and  bade  Little  John  begone. 

Then  Little  John's  heart  was  mad  with  grief  and  fear  for  his  master's  life. 
Wildly  he  looked  about  him,  and  his  sight  fell  upon  a  heavy  stone  mortar,  such 
as  three  men  could  not  lift  now-a-days.  Little  John  took  three  steps  forward, 
and,  bending  his  back,  heaved  the  stone  mortar  up  from  where  it  stood,  deeply 
rooted.  Staggering  under  its  weight,  he  came  forward  and  hurled  it  crashing 
against  the  door.  In  burst  the  door,  and  away  fled  the  frightened  nuns,  shriek- 


294  EPILOGUE. 

ing,  at  his  coming,  Then  Little  John  strode  in,  and  never  a  word  said  he,  but 
up  the  winding  stone  steps  he  ran  till  he  reached  the  room  wherein  his  master 
was.  Here  he  found  the  door  locked  also,  but,  putting  his  shoulder  against  it, 
he  burst  the  locks  as  though  they  were  made  of  brittle  ice. 

There  he  saw  his  own  dear  master  leaning  against  the  gray  stone  wall,  his 
face  all  white  and  drawn,  and  his  head  swaying  to  and  fro  with  weakness. 
Then,  with  a  great,  wild  cry  of  love  and  grief  and  pity,  Little  John  leaped 
forward  and  caught  Robin  Hood  in  his  arms.  Up  he  lifted  him  as  a  mother 
lifts  her  child,  and  carrying  him  to  the  bed,  laid  him  tenderly  thereon. 

And  now  the  Prioress  came  in  hastily,  for  she  was  frightened  at  what  she 
had  done,  and  dreaded  the  vengeance  of  Little  John  and  the  others  of  the 
band ;  then  she  stanched  the  blood  by  cunning  bandages,  so  that  it  flowed  no 
more.  All  the  while  Little  John  stood  grimly  by,  and  after  she  had  done  he 
sternly  bade  her  to  begone,  and  she  obeyed,  pale  and  trembling.  Then,  after 
she  had  departed,  Little  John  spake  cheering  words,  laughing  loudly,  and  say 
ing  that  all  this  was  a  child's  fright,  and  that  no  stout  yeoman  would  die  at  the 
loss  of  a  few  drops  of  blood.  "  Why,"  quoth  he,  "  give  thee  a  se'ennight  and 
thou  wilt  be  roaming  the  woodlands  as  boldly  as  ever." 

But  Robin  shook  his  head  and  smiled  faintly  where  he  lay.  "  Mine  own 
dear  Little  John,"  whispered  he,  "  Heaven  bless  thy  kind,  rough  heart.  But, 
dear  friend,  we  will  never  roam  the  woodlands  together  again." 

"Ay,  but  we  will!"  quoth  Little  John,  loudly.  "I  say  again,  Ay— out 
upon  it — who  dares  say  that  any  more  harm  shall  come  upon  thee?  Am  I 
not  by  ?  Let  me  see  who  dares  touch  "  —  Here  he  stopped  of  a  sudden,  for 
his  words  choked  him.  At  last  he  said,  in  a  deep,  husky  voice,  "  Now,  if  aught 
of  harm  befalls  thee  because  of  this  day's  doings,  I  swear  by  Saint  George  that 
the  red  cock  shall  crow  over  the  roof-tree  of  this  house,  for  the  hot  flames  shall 
lick  every  crack  and  cranny  thereof.  As  for  these  women,"  — here  he  ground 
his  teeth,  —  "  it  will  be  an  ill  day  for  them  !  " 

But  Robin  Hood  took  Little  John's  rough,  brown  fist  in  his  white  hands,  and 
chid  him  softly,  in  his  low,  weak  voice,  asking  him  since  what  time  Little  John 
had  thought  of  doing  harm  to  women,  even  in  vengeance.  Thus  he  talked  till, 
at  last,  the  other  promised,  in  a  choking  voice,  that  no  ill  should  fall  upon  the 
place,  no  matter  what  happened.  Then  a  silence  fell,  and  Little  John  sat  with 
Robin  Hood's  hand  in  his,  gazing  out  of  the  open  window,  ever  and  anon  swal 
lowing  a  great  lump  that  came  in  his  throat.  Meantime  the  sun  dropped 
slowly  to  the  west,  till  all  the  sky  was  ablaze  with  a  red  glory.  Then  Robin 
Hood,  in  a  weak,  faltering  voice,  bade  Little  John  raise  him,  that  he  might  look 
out  once  more  upon  the  woodlands  ;  so  the  yeoman  lifted  him  in  his  arms,  as 
he  bade,  and  Robin  Hood's  head  lay  on  his  friend's  shoulder.  Long  he  gazed, 


EPILOGUE. 


295 


with  a  wide,  lingering  look,  whilst  the  other  sat  with  bowed  head,  the  hot  tears 
rolling  one  after  another  from  his  eyes,  and  dripping  upon  his  bosom,  for  he 
felt  that  the  time  of  parting  was  near  at  hand.  Then,  presently,  Robin  Hood 
bade  him  string  his  stout  bow  for  him,  and  choose  a  smooth  fair  arrow  from  his 
quiver.  This  Little  John  did,  though  without  disturbing  his  master  or  rising 
from  where  he  sat.  Robin  Hood's  fingers  wrapped  lovingly  around  his  good 
bow,  and  he  smiled  faintly  when  he  felt  it  in  his  grasp  ;  then  he  nocked  the 
arrow  on  that  part  of  the  string  that  the  tips  of  his  fingers  knew  so  well. 
"  Little  John,"  said  he,  "  Little  John,  mine  own  dear  friend,  and  him  I  love 
better  than  all  others  in  the  world,  mark,  I  prythee,  where  this  arrow  lodges, 
and  there  let  my  grave  be  digged.  Lay  me  with  my  face  toward  the  east,  Lit 
tle  John,  and  see  that  my  resting-place  be  kept  green,  and  that  my  weary  bones 
be  not  disturbed." 

As  he  finished  speaking,  he  raised  himself  of  a  sudden  and  sat  upright.  His 
old  strength  seemed  to  come  back  to  him,  and,  drawing  the  bowstring  to  his 
ear,  he  sped  the  arrow  out  of  the  open  casement.  As  the  shaft  flew,  his  hand 
sank  slowly  with  the  bow  till  it  lay  across  his  knees,  and  his  body  likewise 
sank  back  again  into  Little  John's  loving  arms  ;  but  something  had  sped  from 
that  body,  even  as  the  winged  arrow  sped  from  the  bov.T. 

For  some  minutes  Little  John  sat  motionless,  but  presently  he  laid  that 
which  he  held  gently  down,  then,  folding  the  hands  upon  the  breast  and  cover 
ing  up  the  face,  he  turned  upon  his  heel  and  left  the  room  without  a  word  or  a 
sound. 

Upon  the  steep  stairway  he  met  the  Prioress  and  some  of  the  chief  among 
the  sisters.  To  them  he  spoke  in  a  deep,  quivering  voice,  and  said  he,  "  An  ye 
go  within  a  score  of  feet  of  yonder  room,  I  will  tear  down  your  rookery  over 
your  heads  so  that  not  one  stone  shall  be  left  upon  another.  Bear  my  words 
well  in  mind,  for  I  mean  them."  So  saying,  he  turned  and  left  them,  and  they 
presently  saw  him  running  rapidly  across  the  open,  through  the  falling  of  the 
dusk,  until  he  was  swallowed  up  by  the  forest. 

The  early  gray  of  the  coming  morn  was  just  beginning  to  lighten  the  black 
sky  toward  the  eastward  when  Little  John  and  six  more  of  the  band  came  rap 
idly  across  the  open  toward  the  nunnery.  They  saw  no  one,  for  the  sisters 
were  all  hidden  away  from  sight,  having  been  frightened  by  Little  John's  words. 
Up  the  stone  stair  they  ran,  and  a  great  sound  of  weeping  was  presently  heard. 
After  a  while  this  ceased,  and  then  came  the  scuffling  and  shuffling  of  men's 
feet  as  they  carried  a  heavy  weight  down  the  steep  and  winding  stairs.  So 
they  went  forth  from  the  nunnery,  and,  as  they  passed  through  the  doors 
thereof,  a  great,  loud  sound  of  wailing  arose  from  the  glade  that  lay  all  dark  in 
the  dawning,  as  though  many  men,  hidden  in  the  shadows,  had  lifted  up  their 
voices  in  sorrow. 


296 


EPILOGUE. 


Thus  died  Robin  Hood,  at  Kirklees  Nunnery,  in  fair  Yorkshire,  with  mercy 
in  his  heart  toward  those  that  had  been  his  undoing;  for  thus  he  showed  mercy 
for  the  erring  and  pity  for  the  weak  through  all  the  time  of  his  living. 

His  yeomen  were  scattered  henceforth,  but  no  great  ill  befell  them  thereaf 
ter,  for  a  more  merciful  sheriff  and  one  who  knew  them  not  so  well  succeeding 
the  one  that  had  gone,  and  they  being  separated  here  and  there  throughout  the 
countryside,  they  abided  in  peace  and  quietness,  so  that  many  lived  to  hand 
down  these  tales  to  their  children  and  their  children's  children. 

A  certain  one  sayeth  that  upon  a  stone  at  Kirklees  is  an  old  inscription. 
This  I  give  in  the  ancient  English  in  which  it  was  written,  and  thus  it  runs  :  — 

])rar  untirnuati  tots  laitl  ctran 
late  rofarrt  earl  of  buntintrtun 
nca  arcfv  Drr  as  ()te  cfae  creuil 
an  ptpl  iiaullj  tin  Eobin  lutti) 
ctck  utlatoe  act  jjt  an  to  men 
mi  (&ntrlanti  niair  ci  nrrcn. 

oilttt  2\  fcal.  UefeembrtB  12 


And  now,  dear  friend,  we  also  must  part,  for  our  merry  journeyings  have 
ended,  and  here,  at  the  grave  of  Robin  Hood,  we  turn,  each  going  his  own  way. 


•• 


- 


14  DAY  USE 

RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 

LOAN  DEPT. 

This  book  is  due  on  the  last  date  stamped  below,  or 

on  the  date  to  which  renewed. 
Renewed  books  are  subject  to  immediate  recall. 


General  Library 
University  of  Californ 
Berkeley 


•*  *  - 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  UBRARY 


MERlll 


•=? 


.VI 

^ 


